by CA Sole
Even now, I cannot say what was driving me. Why was I risking my neck to reach the store? It had nothing to do with me. For safety’s sake I should have just stayed clear and let the fire brigade deal with it.
There was still a way to the back that was clear, behind the vehicles on the left side. I couldn’t see the store through the smoke, but ran around the TC and then the TA to reach the back wall. The steel door was hot and I fumbled to use the key with gloves, in case it would work. It didn’t. Sweat was already running down my face and I had to wipe my eyes to see clearly. The bolt croppers sliced through the padlock shackle with a bit of thrust, and the door swung open easily. It was like an oven inside. At first I couldn’t see and groped for the light switch to find that it too didn’t work. Claustrophobia raised its panicky head but receded with the crisis. The heat from the burning TF was frighteningly intense, but the fire’s glow lit the dim interior enough to see something bundled in the far corner. Two steps forward. Her legs and arms and hands were bound with duct tape and there was a piece across her mouth. Her eyes were wild and scared. I was just a silhouette to her, a monster coming out of the flames.
‘Juliet!’ I shouted over the roaring and crackling, ‘it’s me.’
Her eyes softened immediately and I started to rip the tape from her hands. Then she was no longer looking at me but behind me, her eyes wide with alarm. I spun round and leapt up in one violent move. The jemmy whipped past my ear. He was leaning forward, I came upwards and hit him with a full body blow. It had little effect, but I followed the charge through, knocking him back to the wall. He let out a lung full of air and dropped the weapon, which clanged on the floor. Wiggins was nothing if not tough. He was back at me in a flash with two hard punches to the chest and another to the face. They hurt. I recoiled with the force of them. I had to stay out of reach, he was much tougher than me and those iron fists would soon have me on the ground. I was never good at boxing which is why I learned to kick, and the first hit him in the ribs, the second in the crotch and he dropped. I turned back to Juliet, but he wasn’t finished. He scrambled to his feet, and I kicked him in the face. Blood shot across the floor. Still he came for me. I had to finish this and get Juliet out of there before the fire took greater hold.
The flames were sucking the oxygen out of the air in that confined oven of a room, and I was panting as if at high altitude. After less than thirty seconds, the fight was already exhausting. There was a crash of something falling amid a shower of sparks outside the door.
I managed to dodge most of his blows. He was quicker and better than me, but my fury was greater than his. This man had wrecked the lives of too many people, and he had to be stopped. If I failed, Juliet would die, we would both die. We could not reach safety until he was put down. There is no honour in fighting cleanly, only in winning. I landed a stab with stiff fingers to his larynx and he recoiled backwards, choking. Another kick to his ribs and he cried out. He fell. I felt nothing but rage as I kicked the living daylights out of that destructive moron. I kicked him in the ribs again. ‘For Giles,’ I shouted, then aimed at his head, ‘For Juliet!’ I felt nothing except the desperate need to immobilise him. Eventually he was still, but breathing painfully with little rasps. I turned back to Juliet and ripped the tape off her, only being careful with her face. She staggered to her feet and clung to me, too weak from immobility to move properly. I pushed her gently in the tummy to buckle her over my shoulder and picked her up in a fireman’s lift. As we passed Wiggins, I felt his hand grasp my leg in a final bid. I took a step to the side and stomped on his fingers. ‘For Tina, you bastard!’
The heat outside the door was immense. The flames were following the draught, upwards to the hole in the roof, thank God. A piece of blazing wood crashed down from above, unheard in the roar. Sparks flew. I dodged it, paused briefly to see my way, then moved quickly to the side I had come in. A helmeted giant loomed in front of me, Darth Vader, a great hulking silhouette moving quickly and almost clumsily. The fireman put his arm round my shoulder and over Juliet, keeping his body on the fire side and herded us to the door. Another alien appeared in front, and I shouted at him, ‘There’s a bloke in there.’ Why did I bother?
The barn door was open and welcoming, the air cool. Broad daylight flooded in, banishing the flickering orange glow behind. Helping hands tried to take Juliet from me, but I clung onto her until we reached the ambulance and I could lay her on a stretcher. I tried to stand upright, but she had her arms round my neck until the paramedics gently separated us. One looked at me, a tough looking woman with a kind face and a green overall.
‘Let me look at you, dear,’ she said. ‘Sit down here. Anything wrong?’
‘No,’ I replied, ‘I’m fine.’
‘Well, you don’t look fine, you look a bloody mess, so I’m going to examine you. Sit still, please.’ She started to probe, ‘What’s your name?’
The firemen had found Wiggins, and he was put onto a stretcher next to Juliet. That alarmed me. Sergeant Vale appeared, looking grim. ‘What’s happened here?’ he asked me, his tone implying that it was all my fault.
I really did not need Vale’s biased investigation techniques at that stage. With the climax over, I felt exhausted and answered his question sourly, ‘That man is responsible for this destruction, and he kidnapped Miss Meredith. Right now, he’s not restrained. If he wakes up, he’ll be violent.’ Although admittedly, it did not look as if Wiggins was capable of violence any time soon.
‘Keep still, Alastair,’ said the paramedic.
Vale ignored my attitude, ‘Why is he on a stretcher?’
‘He was caught in his own fire,’ I snapped. ‘Where’s Chief Inspector Carter?’
‘Busy, he’ll be along a bit later.’
‘Alastair, you must keep still for me to examine you properly. Just turn your head left a bit for me, please.’
I grinned at her, ‘Sorry.’ I looked at Vale, and more calmly said, ‘Sergeant, will you please ensure that Wiggins is restrained. He’s a very violent man, and he’s lying right next to Miss Meredith.’
‘He’s under arrest as it is - for escaping from custody. You know that.’
‘Even more reason to handcuff him to the stretcher. He’s a tough bastard. He’s not a victim here.’
‘They’ll both be off in separate ambulances in a few minutes, Alastair.’ The paramedic interjected, tenderly feeling my shoulder.
The detective did not like being told what to do, but he left in the direction of Wiggins. He came back a few moments later. ‘Mr Wiggins appears to have broken ribs, a broken jaw and nose and two broken fingers. Did you do that?’ Maybe it was my attitude that was at fault, but his tone implied that he would arrest me for assault given the slightest chance. I ignored him.
The paramedic had finished with me, although she said I had to go to the hospital for a check on the carbon monoxide level in my blood. ‘You can go in the ambulance with her,’ the medic smiled at me. It was a good idea, but there was much to sort out at the farm, and why clog the NHS? I accepted, but promised I would drive there as soon as things had settled down. ‘No, Alastair,’ she insisted, ‘this is important. You’ve suffered smoke inhalation, and carbon monoxide poisoning is a very serious condition. You must be checked, and if the levels are high you’ll be kept in overnight. It’s not a joke, you must come with us now.’
The firemen had the blaze under control at last. The corner at the back of the barn was destroyed. The roof timbers were burned through and many tiles had crashed down into the building itself. The place was flooded with water and black with soot. There was a great burned hole in the wall, the edges of the wood cladding still smoking.
The cars, I had to see the cars before I left. I felt guilty that everything I’d tried to help Harry with had worked out badly and late, and I owed him something. The TF was destroyed, of course, but the rest had got off comparatively lightly. Since Harry had not yet started work on them, I did not think he’d be too upset. I rang him as
I climbed into the waiting ambulance. He wasn’t happy.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
I was worried about Juliet. I was not allowed to see her until they had taken a blood sample from me to establish my carbon monoxide level. She had gone through a terrifying ordeal and had bruises to her face and arms where she had been pulled and shoved and hit. She still had a red weal across her mouth from the tape. Her normally clear hazel eyes were bloodshot with the dark rings of tiredness beneath them, and the right one had a vicious bruise which spread down into that cheek. Outwardly she seemed calm, though. I sat in a chair at the bedside. She was propped up on pillows and had on a pale blue hospital gown covered in a swarm of darker diamond shaped motifs. She did not want to talk about the experience at first, but then Chief Inspector Carter came in and she realised that she had to help him, so I learned what happened. He had brought a female officer with him instead of Vale who, maybe, was trying his luck with Wiggins.
‘I was on my computer in Alistair’s office when there was a knock on the door. I peeked through the window, but couldn’t see anyone clearly. I thought it was you, actually,’ she began, looking at Carter. ‘I opened the door, but there was no one on the step, so I stuck my head out and suddenly there was a cloth over my face and ... chloroform, I think. Anyway, everything spun around and I don’t know what happened next.’
‘Did you see the person?’
‘Just a glimpse of a head with a balaclava, that’s all. I woke up with a hood over my head and tape over my mouth and arms and ankles. I was in a chair in a cold damp place. It was a cellar, I found out later.’
‘Can you remember any sounds or smells?’
‘No, not then. It was just damp and awfully silent. Hours later, I heard someone come back into the room. He hauled me upright, and suddenly I was over his shoulder. He carried me up a few steps. Then there was a woman’s voice. She said, “Put her in there.” I was straining to pick up any clues as to what they wanted, or where I was, or what was going to happen. I didn’t know if Alastair knew I was missing, I didn’t know what time it was, day or night. It was quite harrowing.’ She looked as if she were close to tears. Without thinking of her reaction, I reached out and covered her hand with mine; support for a friend in need. She didn’t flinch or move away, but she didn’t return my grip either.
‘I’m sure it was very frightening,’ said Carter. ‘Are you all right to continue?’
‘Yes, sorry. I don’t know why I feel like crying, because I’m bloody cross.’ Her voice rose, ‘I’m pissed off, actually!’
I couldn’t help grinning, she had not lost her spirit. She looked at my expression and saw the funny side for a moment, giving a short laugh.
Carter gave a relieved smile, ‘And then?
‘He threw me onto a couch. I knew it was a couch because it was soft, but my head hit the arm, almost stunning me. He just treated me like a sack of potatoes! They spoke in whispers and I couldn’t hear properly, but I think they were deciding what to do with me, where to take me. I say they, but actually, just from the tone of voice, it was a woman who was making the decisions and giving the orders. Then he picked me up again, roughly, grabbing me by the arms and yanking me upright. He smelt unwashed and of cigarette smoke. As we went through the door, I suppose, he made no effort to steer me and my head hit the frame. There was no need for him to be so rough. I may be wrong, but it seemed to me then that he was deliberately hurting me, and all the time he carried me I kept wondering when the next blow would come. He climbed some stairs; quite a lot, he was panting when we reached the top.’
It must have been awful. Afflicted with claustrophobia, the mere thought of my head in a bag and being restrained like that brought on feelings of panic.
Juliet’s lips pursed, trying to hold back the tears that glistened in her eyes, ‘Then I ended up on a bed. I was petrified. I couldn’t see, I couldn’t move and I kept thinking of what that woman had said at the foot of the stairs, it was delivered with such venom.’
‘What did she say?’
Juliet appeared not to hear and went on, ‘I heard him moving about, but I couldn’t tell what he was doing. Then I heard furniture creak, and silence. I think he must have sat down in a chair. I was trying to breathe quietly, straining to hear, After a while, I don’t know how long, he went out.’ She took a deep breath and fell silent.
Carter prompted her, ‘Please go on if you can.’
The constable scribbled a note. Juliet continued, ‘After another long time, I think I fell asleep during it, the man came back. He stank of cigarette smoke. He cut the tape on my ankles and yanked me upright. He pushed me to walk a few steps, steering me with his hands on my shoulders, then turned me round so that I faced him. I was trembling, I couldn’t help it after what she’d said. He undid my jeans and pulled them down with my knickers. I thought, this is it, I’m going to be raped and I was powerless to even put up a struggle. But he didn’t. He pushed me back, but there was something there, and I found I was sitting on a toilet. I realised this was an opportunity not to be missed, but I couldn’t go even though I was desperate, I couldn’t go with him standing right in front of me. He just stood there, saying nothing. Eventually I calmed myself and managed to go. When I was finished, he pulled me to my feet, hauled up my jeans and zipped them, put me back on the bed where he taped up my feet again, then picked me up without any violence and took me back downstairs. Then we were somewhere colder, outside I think, or maybe in a garage, and I was dumped into the boot of a car. He slammed the lid so hard! Brutal, always angry!’
Juliet was unburdening, releasing all her trauma in one full go, but there was still an unanswered question. Carter asked softly, ‘What did the woman say at the foot of the stairs?’
The back of Juliet’s hand had been resting under mine, her palm on the bed. Suddenly she turned it over and returned my grip. Unaware, her nails dug into my skin, seeking strength. I swallowed, what the hell was coming next? Her voice broke suddenly, she no longer spoke calmly, ‘Just before he started to climb, the woman said loudly so I could hear, “Fuck her, fuck her hard. That bastard is going to regret crossing me. Rape her ’til she screams for mercy!” Juliet looked at me, then at the policewoman, then Carter and cried, ‘What kind of woman is that?’
No one answered her, I don’t think any of us could. Carter said nothing, waiting for Juliet to calm herself. I gripped her hand and watched her face. The policewoman had her bottom lip in her teeth and was looking pale and tense.
We all, especially me, were waiting for an important answer. ‘All the time in that bedroom, after her awful words, with him sitting there watching me, I was waiting for him to, to ... but nothing happened. He ignored me, he didn’t touch me or anything.’
I breathed a deep and silent sigh of relief. The mental trauma Juliet would have suffered from rape was not something that would go away easily, if ever, and I wasn’t sure how I would have dealt with it either. Even if we never got back together, it would haunt me.
‘Did you ever see anyone well enough to identify them? Did you hear any music, or animals, or traffic?’
‘No, Chief Inspector. There was a hood over my head all the time I was in that house. Later it was removed when I was in the cellar, but he always had a balaclava on, and I never saw anyone else, only heard them. I thought I heard another woman, though. When that one said what she said, there was a titter, high pitched, which wasn’t her or the man.’
‘Mandy Wiggins giggles like that. If that was her, she didn't seem to be perturbed by what her husband was told to do,’ I commented.
‘We sometimes come across some very strange and abnormal relationships in our business ,’ Carter answered. ‘What happened after that?’
‘Well, they must have changed their minds, because after a short while in the car boot without going anywhere, he lifted me out and took me back to the cellar. He took the hood and the tape off. He put a plate of food in front of me and stood and watched as I ate with my fingers. I wasn’t
hungry, but realised that food might come infrequently so forced myself. When I’d finished he took the plate and went out. There were two blankets on the floor, a bucket in the corner and a bottle of water.
‘I tried to sleep. Time passed, days, I lost track. I should have scratched marks on the wall, I suppose, but I didn’t think it would last long enough for that. In any case, I couldn’t tell whether it was day or night. Then, ages later there was a ray of hope when I was told to say your name, and I heard your voice,’ she looked at me.
‘That was on Friday,’ I said, to give her a perspective of the time, ‘the second time was on Saturday.’
‘A long time later, maybe a day or more, he put the tape and hood back on me and pulled me to my feet. I was put back into the car’s boot, and we drove for a while, maybe half an hour, not more. We stopped in the country somewhere, I could hear the sounds of nature and smelt the fresher air. The next place, I don’t know for sure, but I think it was your pillbox. He carried me a long way to get there, and he stumbled a few times as if the ground was rough. The door creaked in the same way it used to, and there was a faint smell of fresh paint.’
‘That could well be right,’ I confirmed, ‘the lock that I had put on that door had been cut when I was there last.’
‘I wasn’t there long, he took me at night to some woods. I could see enough light through the bag to know when it was daytime, but it was much colder and black on that trip. I could hear twigs snapping, and branches whipped my face.’ She fingered her bruised right cheek gently, ‘I think this scratch was a bramble.
‘I’m sure then that he put me in the old shed. It smelt the same, mouldy and damp, and the floor was slippery, probably with moss. I was sitting with my back against the corrugated iron, I could hear it creaking and buckling as I moved. It became very cold and I couldn’t stop shivering. He went away then and didn’t come back until the morning. When he did, it was to take me to the store where you found me. He took the bag off my head and taped me to the chair and went out. He closed the door very quietly, but I heard him put the lock on. There was another wait, I don’t know how long. Then I heard someone fiddling with the door, but it never opened. I wanted to shout to whoever it was, but the tape ...’