by Shaun Hutson
Thompson glared at him.
Without breaking the stare, Fuller drove the needle into Thompson’s thigh, pressing down on the plunger.
“We’ll talk soon,” the older man said.
Thompson strained against his bonds for a moment. His entire body went rigid, then the images before him began to swim sickeningly Blurred and distorted.
The darkness returned.
THE DRUG CALLED phenobarbital sodium, when administered in soluble form usually in divided doses from 30mg to 125mg daily can sedate a patient for up to eighteen hours.
It is tasteless. Especially when mixed with a suspension or with ordinary milk. If crushed to powder, it will dissolve easily in liquid of any kind.
Veronica Porter slept the sleep of the dead.
The clock beside her showed 2.44 a.m.
“WE’LL DO WHAT we said we’d do.” Jack Fuller looked around at the expectant faces of those gathered in the day room.
“Has anyone got anything to say?” he continued.
“Are we sure they’re the ones?” Harry Holland wanted to know.
“We caught them breaking in tonight, didn’t we? That seems fairly conclusive.”
“We’ll find out once we talk to them,” George Errington added.
“What about the others who were with them?” Helen Kennedy asked.
“What if they come back?”
“Then we’ll deal with them too.”
“What if they go to the police?” Colin Glazer offered.
“And tell them what?” Fuller challenged.
“That they were breaking in somewhere and they’re worried about three of their friends.” He raised an eyebrow.
“They’ll be missed,” Eva Cole said.
“You know the kind of families that sort come from,” Errington sneered. They don’t know where their kids are half the time and even if they do they don’t care.”
“Even if they are missed, who’s going to think of looking here?”
Barbara Eustace intoned.
“We can’t rely on the police, we know that,” Fuller continued.
“I agree,” Donald Tanner added.
“I don’t see that we have any choice. They’re criminals, after all. It doesn’t matter how old they are.”
“They killed Janice,” Harry Holland murmured.
“They should pay.”
“What about Veronica or Mr. Faulkner?” Barbara wanted to know.
“What if they find them?”
“We’ll have to take them out of the basement,” Fuller answered.
“We won’t be able to hide them in there for long.”
“So where do we put them?” Errington asked.
“We’ll put them in the room Janice and I had,” Holland said.
“I’ll tell Ronni I want to keep some of Janice’s things in there, that I don’t want it disturbed. I’ll tell her I’ll clean it. I’ll just let the staff take care of the single I’m in now. There’ll be no reason for them to go into our old room.” He lowered his voice slightly.
“Janice used to do most of the cleaning in there anyway.”
Fuller nodded.
“There’s no reason why they should be found,” he said.
“We’ll keep them bound and gagged. We’ll drug Faulkner and Ronni like we did tonight. It was easy enough getting the phenobarbital from the pharmacy.”
“How long are we going to keep those kids here?” Tanner asked.
All eyes turned towards Fuller.
“Until we have all the information we need,” he said.
“But if we let them go they’ll come back. It could be worse the next time,” Barbara Eustace said.
“We can’t keep them here for ever,” Colin Glazer interjected.
“They’ll be found eventually.”
“We’ll keep them here for as long as we have to,” Fuller said sharply.
“The important thing is that we’re all agreed on this. We’ve got to stick together. If any of you start having second thoughts, just remember what they’ve put us through for the past couple of weeks. Remember it’s their fault Janice is gone. Remember what they did to Barbara’s dog. They have to be stopped. They have to be dealt with.” He looked around the room; expressions of agreement and nodding heads greeted him.
“It’s all gone too far now anyway,” Fuller continued.
“There’s no going back for any of us. But we must be strong. And we must do what we said we’d do.”
Again he looked around at the others.
“All those in agreement, raise your hands.”
As if the movement had been rehearsed, eight hands rose simultaneously into the air.
Only Colin Glazer looked a little hesitant.
“What if one of the staff do find them?” he wanted to know.
Fuller smiled.
“They won’t,” he said, a note of unwavering conviction in his voice.
“Jack’s right,” Errington added.
“We’ve got to stick together. We can’t weaken now. We planned this too carefully.”
“They must be punished,” Barbara Eustace added.
“Is that what this is about?” Glazer said.
“Revenge?”
“It’s about justice, Colin,” Fuller told him. They’ve put us through hell. They would have carried on if we hadn’t stopped them.”
“I know you’re right.” Glazer sighed.
“It’s just that it seems as if we’re turning into a bunch of Nazi torturers or something ridiculous like that. One day we’re living out our days peacefully here, the next we’re vigilantes. It’s insane.”
“You can walk away now if you want to, Colin,” Fuller said, looking around the room.
“Any of you can.”
“I’m just trying to consider all the issues,” Glazer insisted.
“There’s only one issue,” Errington hissed.
“Our safety. I won’t live in fear of little bastards like them.”
A murmur of approval rippled around the room.
Even Glazer nodded.
“Any more questions?” Fuller asked.
There were none.
“So, we carry on as we planned,” he said flatly. Fuller looked at his watch, then murmured quietly, “We’d better get started.”
THE COLD WOKE HER.
Donna Freeman shuddered, every inch of her skin puckered into gooseflesh by the chill. It took her a second or two to realize she was naked but for her bra and knickers.
As she turned her head slowly from left to right she saw that Carl Thompson and Graham Brown had also been stripped. They wore just their underwear.
All three were sitting on chairs, secured there firmly by lengths of electrical flex that had been wound around their ankles and wrists.
The tape had been removed from their eyes, but not from their mouths.
Donna coughed, the action causing her body to jerk wildly.
She glanced around at the faces of those who stared at her and her two companions.
One of the old men (the tall one with the glasses) was smiling crookedly, she was sure, as he surveyed her helplessness.
Her headache had gone. For that she was grateful.
There were bruises on her arms. She saw more on the arms and chest of Brown. Large purple welts that overlapped in places.
Her bare feet were cold on the stone floor. She screwed up her toes as if that action would prevent the feeling, but all she could do was sit and shiver.
“We need to talk to you.”
Donna heard the words and they seemed to echo inside her head for a moment.
She saw who had spoken them and one of the old men stepped towards her.
“When I take this off,” Jack Fuller said slowly, tapping the tape gag over her mouth, ‘you can scream if you want to. But the only people who’ll hear you will be the ones in this room. No one will come to help you and if you carry on screaming, then I’ll gag you again. It’s your choice.” He took hold of the gaffer
tape and ripped it away.
Donna hissed in pain and glared at Fuller.
“Fuck,” she snarled, her cheeks and lips stinging. She sucked in a few deep breaths, then sat back slightly.
“The first word you speak is an obscenity,” Fuller said, shaking his head.
“Fuck off, grand ad she rasped.
Fuller stepped back a pace.
“I want my clothes back,” she continued.
“Is that what happens when you can’t get it up anymore? When you’re too old? Do you just look? Why didn’t you take all my clothes? If you want to look at my tits and my fanny, then fucking do it.”
“You’re disgusting,” Fuller told her, his face set in hard lines.
She held his gaze defiantly.
He turned and moved towards the clothes Donna had been wearing. One by one he held the items up.
“Your clothes,” he said.
“I expect they were stolen or paid for with someone else’s money.”
He upended the jeans and shook them. Some loose change flew out and rolled across the floor.
“Was that stolen too?” Fuller asked.
“Leave my clothes alone,” Donna hissed.
“You’ve got no right ‘ “No what?” snarled Fuller.
“No right? What do you know about rights7.” He threw the jeans aside.
As she watched, he went through the pockets of her jacket and found a packet of Silk Cut, some Juicy Fruit and a little more loose change.
“Do you use the money to pay for those things?” Errington asked, stepping forward. He pointed first at the stud in her navel, then at her earrings and finally at the nose ring.
“I’m getting another one too,” Donna hissed.
“If you pull my knickers off, I’ll show you where it’s going to go, you fucking old perv.”
Errington peered at her over his glasses, then leaned close.
Donna tried to pull back.
She swallowed hard then relaxed as he moved away.
“Scum,” Fuller murmured.
“What’s your name?” Errington asked.
“Lady Di.” She grinned.
He hit her.
Donna was amazed both at the power in the blow and also at its speed.
The flat of Errington’s hand caught her across the cheek. The loud crack as it connected reverberated inside the basement.
Donna gritted her teeth, her cheek stinging.
Errington moved away.
“What’s your name?”
It was Harry Holland who asked this time.
“Madonna,” she sneered.
Holland struck her across the same cheek.
She rocked back in the chair, almost overbalancing.
Helen Kennedy stepped forward.
“What’s your name?” she said softly.
Donna eyed her warily for a moment.
“Mind your own business,” she said, some of the bravado missing from her tone.
Helen hit her across the other cheek.
“What’s your name?” Donald Tanner wanted to know.
Donna hesitated, her eyes flicking from one face to the other. She looked around at Thompson and saw that he was glaring at her.
“Never mind him,” Tanner said, seeing her concern.
“He’s next. Now, what’s your name?”
Her heart was beating more rapidly now.
“You can’t do this,” she protested.
Tanner grinned and struck her so hard he split her bottom lip. Donna licked at it with her tongue and tasted blood.
“What’s your name?” Colin Glazer enquired, his voice as even as those before him.
Donna saw no emotion on his face.
She opened her mouth as if to speak.
Glazer struck her before she could.
He caught her with a back-hand blow so hard it almost knocked her over.
Tears began to well up in her eyes.
“What’s your name?” Jack Fuller said.
He hit before she even had the chance to speak.
“Donna,” she blurted, tears now coursing down her cheeks.
“Donna Freeman.”
Fuller nodded and turned towards Graham Brown.
‘IF YOU TOUCH me, I’ll fucking kill you,” Brown snarled as the gag was torn free.
“You’re not in a position to threaten anyone now,” Fuller reminded him.
“What’s your name?”
Brown hawked and spat at the older man, the glob of mucus missing him by inches.
“What kind of people are you?” Fuller said, eyeing Brown and the other two with thinly disguised disgust.
“Thieves. Vandals. Murderers.”
“We never killed anyone,” Donna interjected.
“You killed my wife,” Harry Holland rasped.
“We never touched your fucking wife,” Brown sneered.
Fuller struck him hard across the face.
“Name?” he said flatly.
“Fuck you.”
Fuller hit him again.
“What’s your name?”
Brown felt the pain building inside his skull once again.
“What is your name?” Fuller continued.
Brown tried to shake his head just as Fuller caught him across the temple with a powerful blow.
“Graham Brown, you old cunt. My fucking name is Graham Brown, right?” the boy blurted.
Fuller nodded and wiped his hand on his handkerchief.
“You butchered a dog that belonged to one of the residents here,” George Errington added.
Brown winced.
Donna said nothing.
“Didn’t you?” Errington persisted.
“You killed that dog, didn’t you? Then you broke in here and hung it in the wardrobe. Didn’t you?”
“Why did you do it?” Fuller added.
Brown swallowed hard.
“Why did you kill the dog?” Helen Kennedy wanted to know.
“And spray graffiti on the walls?” Fuller said.
“And smash our windows?” Errington reminded them.
“Or send those letters?” Tanner offered.
Brown felt as if his head was spinning. The questions were coming from every direction, spoken with the same even-voiced tone, but he knew that it barely hid the anger behind it.
“Why?” Fuller snapped, glaring at Brown.
“Why did you break in?” Errington demanded.
“What did you want here?”
“Why did you kill my wife?” Holland added, stepping forward.
“We didn’t.. .” Brown protested weakly.
Holland hit him hard with the back of his hand.
“Why did you kill her?”
“Why did you attack our home?” Eva Cole rasped.
Colin Glazer slapped Brown across the back of the head close to the place where his skull had been cracked. The pain was agonizing and for precious seconds he thought he was going to pass out.
When Glazer looked at his palm there was blood on it.
He crossed to the three piles of clothing on the other side of the room and wiped his hand on Brown’s sweatshirt.
“Why did you break in?” Tanner snapped.
“What did you expect to find?”
Brown was now fighting back tears too. The pain inside his head was almost intolerable.
“What did you expect to find?” Tanner repeated. He hit Brown hard across the face and this time the boy began to sob.
“Fuck off,” he whimpered.
Tanner hit him again.
“We thought you had money here,” blurted Donna, twisting against the bonds that held her so tightly.
Carl Thompson roared madly through his gag and all eyes turned towards him.
“Do you want to add something to this discussion?” Fuller asked, taking a step towards the youth. He ripped the tape off.
“What do you want to say?”
Thompson opened his mouth wide, as if to force away the stiffness in his jaw.
“You’re the leader, aren’t you? You were behind all this?”
Thompson merely held Fuller’s gaze.
“Were you the one who told them there was money here?”
No answer.
Fuller struck him across the face.
“Did you think we all had our savings in shoe boxes under our beds?”
Silence.
Fuller clenched his fist and struck the youth.
Blood began to run from his bottom lip.
“Did you think you were going to go from room to room and steal everything we had?”
Thompson barely blinked.
“The tough one, eh?” murmured Fuller, leaning close to his ear.
“I’ve seen your kind before. I know about people like you.” The older man stepped back.
“You’ll have to let us go,” Brown said.
“People are looking for us.”
“No they’re not,” Errington told him.
The fucking police will arrest you,” Brown rasped.
“Shall I call them?” Harry Holland offered.
“You can tell them how you killed my wife.”
“We didn’t kill your fucking wife!” wailed Brown.
Holland smashed his hand across the younger boy’s face with incredible power.
Blood and mucus spattered the floor.
Brown coughed, his head lolling onto his chest.
Donna looked at Thompson, who ignored her.
“Are you going to call the police?” she asked.
“What’s the point?” Fuller mumured.
“You can’t keep us here. Someone’ll come to find us,” Donna insisted.
Fuller reached for a fresh piece of tape and wound it swiftly around Donna’s mouth.
“I need a piss,” Brown said imploringly.
Fuller pulled off a length of tape to seal Brown’s mouth.
“I said I need a piss,” the boy repeated.
Fuller pressed the tape into place.
Brown looked up into his eyes.
Fuller reached down swiftly and prodded the boy’s lower abdomen hard with his fingers.
Brown groaned as a dark stain began to spread across his pants. The acrid smell of urine filled the air.
Fuller turned away from him. For long moments he stood looking at Thompson, who met his gaze defiantly.
“We’ll speak tomorrow,” Fuller muttered.
As he reached forward to stick the gaffer tape in place, Thompson began to jerk his head backwards and forwards.
Harry Holland stepped behind him, clamped his head between his hands and held him still long enough for Fuller to wind the tape around his mouth.