Degrees of Darkness

by Tony J. Forder

  She’s terrified of her own brother, Laura thought. She doesn’t want him to know what she did. She’s terrified of him and what he might do if he finds out. I’m special to him, and that worries her.

  The woman’s hands were caressing Laura’s face now, taking care as they slid across the tender spot of redness that was beginning to swell a little. Laura locked eyes with her defiantly. It occurred to her that a subtle shift in the balance of power had taken place. The woman had been so sure of herself, so confident. Now she was subdued. The blow had not been that hard, the pain had come and gone in an instant, yet Laura sensed that she now had some leverage. Her silence in exchange for …

  She smiled at the woman, who smiled back, hope radiating in that single expression. ‘I do wonder if I should tell your brother what you did to me,’ Laura said softly. ‘I do think he deserves to know.’

  Colour bled from the woman’s face as if her blood had been drained. ‘No.’ She shook her head violently. ‘No, don’t do that. There’s no need. Really. I … I could get you some nice soothing cream for your bottom. I know it must still hurt where he beat you, and we don’t want it infected, do we? And we could keep this little secret just between the two of us.’ She nodded encouragingly.

  Laura felt as if her heart might burst. Here was the opening she had been waiting for. ‘Maybe. It might be good to have our own secret.’

  ‘Yes. Yes, it would.’

  ‘But … you would have to be good to me.’

  Laura’s captor frowned. ‘I would? In what way?’

  ‘For a start, I don’t think you should hit me again.’

  ‘Oh, no. No, I never will. I promise.’

  ‘And I don’t think you should touch me, or kiss me, or do anything wrong to me.’

  ‘But what if Larry wants me to?’

  Laura considered only for a second. She couldn’t push this too far. A little at a time. Gain the woman’s confidence. ‘Only if you have to,’ she said reluctantly. ‘But if we’re going to have a secret, if I’m going to trust you, at least tell me your name.’

  The woman frowned in a slightly amused way. ‘It’s Violet. You should remember that, Princess.’

  ‘Violet.’ Laura gave a huge grin. ‘Okay, Violet. It’ll be our secret. I won’t tell, just as long as you’re good to me from now on.’

  The woman breathed a long sigh. She got to her feet. ‘I’d better be going now.’

  ‘Yes.’ Laura nodded, and her eyes hardened. ‘I think you’d better. And, Violet … don’t forget that cream.’

  Moments later, Laura, too, heaved a heavy sigh. She had gained a small measure of control. Now all she had to do was think how best to use it.

  * * *s

  Lawrence Swain entered the room some time later, carrying a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken. He crouched down and set it on the floor by her side. ‘Dinner,’ he said. ‘A treat for you.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He gave a surprised smile. ‘There’s a good girl. Now, isn’t that a whole lot better than making me angry?’

  ‘Yes.’ Laura took the lid from the bucket and pulled out a piece of greasy chicken. He looked on as she ate hungrily. Although her meals were better of late, her stomach had not yet acclimatised to the lack of in-between meal snacks. She knew she had lost some weight, and felt weakened by it.

  ‘Good?’ he asked.

  ‘Wonderful.’

  He put a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it tenderly. It was all Laura could do not to scream or shudder at his touch. ‘I feel that things are improving, Laura. I really do. I shouldn’t wonder if you are getting to feel something for us. Perhaps it won’t be long before you love us like we love you.’

  Laura pulled out a second piece of chicken. She managed to give one of her prettiest smiles. ‘I do like you. I like you both. Especially when you’re nice to me.’

  The cream now spread across her buttocks soothed her wounds, the relief filling her with even more confidence. But confidence had caused her guard to drop.

  Larry inclined his head, frowning. ‘Like us? Like us both? So, what the fuck happened to love? And what’s this shit about being nice to you? You should love us no matter what. That’s what fucking love is all a-fucking-bout!’

  The change had come over him in an instant, every little feature of his face hardening. She had lost him. Now she had to bring him back. She lowered her gaze and saw his hands hanging loosely, the fingers beginning to curl into fists. The thought of touching him made her want to bring the chicken right back up. But there was no other way.

  Survival.

  Laura dropped the chicken piece back into the bucket. She wiped her fingers on her dress, then slowly reached out. Her hand slipped into his, between the curling fingers. She saw something come back into his eyes, like a spirit re-entering a body. He was hers again.

  He looked down, then across at Laura. She smiled. He smiled.

  Please don’t hold me, her mind screamed inwardly. I don’t know if I can take that. But he did. He pulled her to him and hugged her close. Laura closed her eyes and reached inside herself once more. She didn’t know how much more she had to give, but her reservoir of strength had to be almost dry. Still she drew from it. Perhaps for the last time.

  Survival.

  That was all that mattered.

  45

  Frank lay awake in bed, blinking sleep from his eyes. He hadn’t taken a single drink last night and was astonished to discover just how clear his mind was this morning, how sharp and keen his senses were. He stretched and yawned, breathed the morning air. Then he sat up. A once-familiar smell drifted up to him from downstairs. It had been a long time. He smiled and swung his legs out of bed.

  Debbie had come over again the previous evening. They’d slept together, but hadn’t made love. They held each other all night, though, their heat spilling out onto the sheets. As midnight became just another memory, he spoke of the bitter defeat he and Nicky’s team had experienced. She stroked his chest and soothed him, telling him it would be all right. Telling him until he too finally came to believe it.

  ‘Breakfast,’ she called up the stairs.

  ‘I’m on my way.’ He scowled at the overcast sky, pulled on his dressing gown, and padded downstairs.

  Debbie was already showered and dressed, fresh and glowing. The place in his heart that wasn’t confined to his son and daughter ached for what she meant to him.

  ‘My God,’ he said, registering what was on the table. A heaped plate waited for him: Sausage, bacon, mushrooms, fried egg, beans, fried slice. ‘It’s enough to feed an army.’

  ‘Tuck in.’ She kissed his cheek. ‘You need a good start to the day. It’ll help keep you going.’

  Frank grinned crookedly as he sat down. ‘I can think of a better way.’

  She laughed. He loved to hear her laugh. It was melodic and refined, a sound of genuine happiness. ‘You need to keep your strength up if you want to do that sort of thing. Eat first. If you’re still in the mood after, maybe I’ll see if I can fit you into my busy schedule.’

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘Eat! I’m not that easy, you know. You think you can just flutter those long lashes of yours and I’ll crumble.’

  He tried. Debbie waved him away and plunged her hands into a bowlful of soapy dishes. Frank shook his head and tucked in. His plate was half empty when the phone rang. Debbie reflexively picked it up and gave the number. At first, the ensuing silence sounded completely natural, but then he began to wonder why he couldn’t hear her voice. He turned his head to look at her.

  Debbie was pressed up against the wall, the receiver hanging loosely from her hand, her mouth open in a silent scream. He jumped to his feet, snatched the phone away from her and demanded to know who was on the line. His only reply was static, not that he’d needed an answer.

  Frank slammed it back into its cradle. Then he took hold of Debbie’s hands. ‘It was him, wasn’t it?’ His voice was low, choked. Was there no end to this madman’s int
rusion into his life?

  ‘He … he said he was happy to speak to me at last,’ Debbie said finally, stumbling over her words. Frank led her across to the table and sat her down. She put her hands to her face and wept.

  ‘Oh, Frank. His voice was so cold, so chilling. Just hearing it terrified me.’ A thin trail of mucus ran from her nose. She cuffed it away angrily.

  ‘What did he say?’ Frank gently stroked her hair, his own fingers shaking with rage.

  ‘He said he wanted to taste me. He said he wanted me to experience pain for him, so that he might discover another level of existence. He said he thought I would enjoy him, too. And then I would know the wonder that is death.’

  Frank pulled the trembling woman close and held her tight against his chest. His head ached with pressure, needing to vent his anger at someone or something. The bastard had entered someone else’s mind now. By involving Debbie, he had changed the rules, and was now playing a different game altogether.

  The phone rang again. Debbie jumped as if scalded.

  ‘Let it ring,’ he whispered, stroking her fringe back from her face. His hands came back moist. It fuelled his anger all the more.

  ‘No,’ Debbie said quickly. ‘He might have another girl for you.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter. We can’t do anything for her now.’

  ‘Frank.’ She pulled him to her, lips brushing his. ‘You have to answer it. You know you do. I’ll be all right now.’

  He cursed and snatched the phone off the wall. ‘You lousy bastard!’ he spat venomously. ‘This has nothing to do with her.’

  ‘Tut-tut. That’s not very civil, is it? Don’t speak to me like that again, Frank. Or maybe I’ll have to take it out on your little girl. How would it be if I sprinkled crushed glass into her eyes? His voice was calm and horribly reasonable.

  ‘No!’ Frank cried out. He gripped the phone so tight that he thought it might buckle under the pressure. Calm yourself, damnit. Calm yourself. Laura’s life is in your hands now. ‘No … don’t do that, Oscar. There’s no need. I … I’m sorry.’

  ‘And so you should be. I wouldn’t want to ruin Laura’s eyes. They’re really quite beautiful. And so wide open to everything I have taught her. Quite the young lady she had become.’

  Frank jammed his eyes shut.

  ‘Your little girl isn’t any more, Special Detective Rogers.’

  He felt as if he’d been struck. Isn’t! Isn’t what? ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, his voice sounding small and pathetic.

  ‘I mean she is no longer a little girl. None of them are, once they’ve been introduced to the pleasure of me. Once they’ve felt the delights a real man can offer. No more cherry for Laura. No white wedding for this one, Frank.’

  A low moan escaped Frank’s mouth. ‘Oh, you haven’t. Tell me you haven’t. Please.’

  He was begging, pleading with this beast, and he hated himself for it. It was all wrong, but the words had escaped as if they had a life of their own. Tears flooded his cheeks. He wanted to climb through the telephone line, wrap the cord around the throat he found there and tighten it until the madman’s face turned black.

  A chuckle, a practised sound. ‘I’ll just have to let you sweat on that one, Frank. Leave it in the pot … let your mind give it a stir from time to time.’

  ‘Do you have any further proof that she’s still alive?’ Frank didn’t want to know. Not really. Not in the place where his heart was darkest.

  ‘Actually, I do. Your little girl and I were enjoying a rare feast last night. We pulled a wishbone and I asked her what she’d wished for. You know what, Frank? She didn’t say she wanted to be with you. Didn’t say she wanted her mummy and her brother back. She said she’d like to be in Disney World.’

  ‘You could have got that from her at any time.’

  ‘Well fuck you, you cock-sucking motherfucker! I’ve had enough of this fucking bullshit. I’m going to fetch her now, bring her to the phone. I’m going to break her little fingers one by one while you listen to her cries. I’m going to pull your fucking daughter inside out, and what I’m not going to do is listen to any more of your crap!’

  ‘All right, all right,’ Frank said hurriedly. He’d pushed too far this time. Damn Nicky and his bright fucking ideas. Laura might not be dead but her clock was ticking away. ‘Take it easy. I won’t ask any more. I promise. From now on you talk and I’ll listen.’

  His breath came in laboured gasps. Pain rippled through his chest. He felt the beginnings of a cramp in his left arm.

  Oh, Christ. The ultimate irony. Laura gets rescued only to find out that her old man has died of a heart attack. He slowed his breathing.

  ‘Please, Oscar,’ he said weakly. ‘I’ll do anything you say, but please don’t hurt her. Hurt me all you like instead.’ He shot a glance at Debbie, who sat as if in a trance, tears drying on her cheeks.

  Silence.

  He’s put the phone down on you. You went in too strong. You didn’t know him well enough. Laura’s going to die right now, and it’s all your fault—

  ‘Very well, Frank. I’ll give you a chance to redeem yourself.’

  ‘Thank you.’ The words stuck in his throat. He thought: There was a time I would have been willing to let you go, let you have your day in court, let justice take its natural course. Not now. Oh, no. Because now it doesn’t matter what else happens – you, my friend, are going to die. I am going to kill you.

  ‘I suppose you can guess why I’m calling?’

  ‘You have another gift for me.’

  ‘Precisely. It’s a rare pleasure dealing with you, Frank. I like to think we are both professionals, but pleasant also. People are either charming or tedious, I find. I haven’t quite decided which you are. Laura, however, is unquestionably charming.’

  Frank’s head squeezed tighter still. Something the man had just said triggered an alarm in his head. What was it? What? He couldn’t latch on to it, so let it go. Instead he debated whether to let Oscar know that they were onto the taxidermy angle. After a brief search of his instincts, he decided against. Who knew what it might trigger inside the monster’s mind.

  ‘Tell me where to find my gift, Oscar,’ he said.

  The man gave him the address. Then he said, ‘Don’t cut me off yet, Frank. We both know it isn’t going to help her now.’

  ‘You want to talk some more, Oscar.’

  ‘Yes. But not to you. I want to talk to Debbie again.’

  The blood seemed to ice over in Frank’s veins. He looked across at the already shattered woman he had come to know and love as much as he had ever loved anyone in his life. Her face was white, both hands held against her brow were shaking uncontrollably.

  Frank swallowed. ‘I … I can’t do that, Oscar.’

  ‘Can’t? Or won’t?’

  ‘Won’t.’

  ‘Very well. How about if I hurt your lovely daughter some more, Frank? How about if I record her screams and play them to you? Is that what it’ll take?’

  ‘I can’t. You must know that. You’ve upset her enough. She won’t come to the phone now.’

  ‘Okay, Frank. The next time you hear from me, your pretty little girl will be dead, and her screams will haunt even your dreams.’

  Frank broke down then. His resolve was forgotten. He wept like a baby and slumped against the wall, forehead cool against the ceramic tiles. His shoulders heaved and his pain came out in huge wracking sobs. He had heard of heartbreak, had scoffed at the thought, but now he felt the pain as his heart tore apart at the seams. He was struggling to compose himself one last time when he felt a tug against his fingers. Debbie was trying to take the phone from him.

  He shook his head wildly, eyes wide and glazed.

  ‘Yes, Frank,’ she whispered. ‘I can guess what he’s threatened. Better I hear what he has to say than he hurts Laura.’

  ‘I can’t let you do that for me.’

  She shook her head. ‘No. But you can let me do it for her.’

  He looked fo
r a second into her eyes. What he saw there astounded him. He saw the kind of strength only a woman is capable of, the kind a man can never conceive of. It came from a place found only inside a woman who loves.

  He relented.

  Debbie took the phone from him, steeled herself, and spoke. ‘Hello, Oscar. I believe you wanted to talk to me again.’

  Holly Stevens. Barely twelve when she was taken like the others. They found her body in a deserted railway yard, right by the sidings. She shared her fate with those who had gone before. Once SOCO had allowed the photographer and police doctor their time, Frank and Nicky saw all they needed to, then left. Nicky suggested they stop off for a drink, hoping to wind down before they returned to the normality of familiar surroundings. Frank agreed: he didn’t want to take another little girl’s tortured body back to his home; did not want Debbie to feel its horrific touch.

  As they drank bottled American lager with whisky chasers, the two men spoke in hushed voices. Frank felt numbed by all that had happened that day, his senses twisted and scarred beyond all recognition. He could not comprehend a mind capable of carrying out such atrocities, let alone enjoy doing it. And that same creature had his little girl.

  Monday was still almost two days away. The monster was purging himself one child at a time, and Frank could only pray that killing Laura was not part of that plan for a while yet. The clock inside his head chimed away another hour of her life.

  Frank mentioned his fears briefly. Nicky tried to assuage them. They would have the man behind bars soon enough, he insisted. If they had to, they would deal with him for Laura’s life. Hope bloomed like a flower in Frank’s heart. Yes. Let them deal. Let him give Laura’s location. Then let him die. Just a few seconds. That’s all it would take.

  Bang, bang. You’re dead.

  Frank told Nicky about Debbie’s astounding composure earlier. Nicky nodded and said, ‘She’s a tough one, Frank. You could do a whole lot worse for yourself when all this is over. What did the sick fuck say to her the second time?’