by Jake Barton
"Trouble?"
"Yeah," Donne replied, her head still inside the boot, "Just a puncture. It’s okay, I’ve got a spare."
If I can get at the bloody thing.
"Why don’t you let me hold a torch for you? I’ve got one of those lantern things somewhere."
"Oh, That’d be a help, thank you. If you’re not in a hurry." She stood up and glanced across at his car. It was the handsome stranger she’d seen at the gym. He talked like a BMW owner, he certainly looked like a BMW owner, but he was driving a Ford Sierra. Perhaps the BMW was in the workshop for a service, or maybe he felt a car was only a means of transport. He got out of the car and came over to her.
"You sure there’s a spare wheel in there somewhere?" He asked, looking at the interior of the boot.
Donna grinned, bending to tug at the cardboard panel once again, when he seized her arm tightly, gripping it fiercely, and she felt a sharp pain in her upper arm.
"What the …" Donna cried, her words cut off by his hand across her mouth. She struggled furiously, but he enfolded her within his arms and she couldn’t break free.
"The active constituent is Benzodiazepine, it’s a narcotic usually prescribed for insomnia. Some people call it the date rape drug. You’ve had just about enough to put you to sleep for an hour."
Donna tried desperately to free herself but his grip was relentless.
An ice-cold bead of sweat trickled down between Donna’s shoulder blades. She was so scared, she thought she might pee herself at any moment. Her arms felt heavy and she had to really concentrate to prevent her head lolling to one side.
The man holding her captive in the shadow of the car was the reason behind her impression of being watched. A puzzle made flesh. He’d been stalking her, waiting his moment.
"Marcus," Donna whispered. "You’re Marcus Green."
"The very same. At your service."
Donna gasped, fighting for a breath that wasn’t there. Her chest clamped, ears pounding with the onset of a panic attack. She lost focus, seeing specks of light, bright darts of iridescent colours overwhelming her vision, and still felt unable to take a breath. Open-mouthed and wheezing like a punctured inner tube, Donna could feel her legs weakening.
He watched her in the faint light of a distant streetlight, the smile on his lips never reaching his eyes which were a blank canvas revealing nothing. No trace of anger or hate, but not a trace of regret or pity either.
Nothing.
His gaze held Donna as securely as a rabbit fixated on the beam of a torch watching her sink to the unyielding tarmac.
She was unable to resist as he seized her by the upper arm and with a smooth movement, stooped to place his other hand behind her knee and with no apparent effort lifted her off her feet. She tried to scream, but nothing came out of her mouth. He placed her carefully on the back seat of his car and threw a blanket over her.
*****
Donna drifted in and out of a shallow confused sleep, dimly aware that she was in a car. Not her car.
The lights flashing past the side windows were a blur, but she was unable to recognise any features. In a sudden terrifying flash of lucidity, Donna saw that she was lying full length across the back seat of a car, partly covered by a tartan rug, and that her hands were firmly bound to the metal base of the seat in front. The driver of the car was a shapeless blur, and as Donna tried to speak, she felt herself weakening and drifted off to sleep again.
The next time Donna awoke, the car was slowing down. It was dark outside the windows and she could see nothing.
Quiet too.
She felt exhausted, her limbs heavy, all her senses confused. Like a sudden gust of wind, a surge of raw anger flooded through her veins. Anger directed mostly at herself for allowing this situation to occur, but also at the impassive figure of her captor whose silhouette filled her forward view. She held on tight to her anger, well aware that she might have need of it shortly. Controlled anger is a good weapon.
*****
Dexter frowned, putting his phone back in his pocket.
"Still no answer. Silly little sod. I’ve told her 'til I’m sick of telling her."
Kate said nothing, eyes focussed on her screen. "I’ve taken that early picture of Marcus Green, aged it by a dozen years, compared it with the prison picture. I’ve fiddled around with that one too, removed the beard, tried out a few different looks. Clean shaven, short hair, that sort of thing. Trying to find one that gives a better impression of what he looks like." She turned the monitor to allow Dexter to see. ‘Is this you, Marcus?
Dexter looked at the pictures, his finger pointing at the last face on the screen. "I’ve seen him."
"Where?"
Dexter shook his head. "only a glance, twice I think."
"Where?"
"No idea. Once on the prom maybe, the other time …." His voice tailed away.
"Were you on your own?""
No, with Donna."
"Both times?"
"Yeah. Look it’s probably nothing, just a glance, never thought about it at the time, just remember faces."
"A copper thing?"
"Suppose it is."
Kate frowned. "And Donna’s not answering her ‘phone…" She picked up the hard copies of the house details Donna had sent over, looking at each in turn. "Is she here? And, if so, which one?"
Dexter snatched them from her, studying each in turn. "Which one?"
"A guess, pure and simple, That’s all it can be. The odds three to one against. You’re asking me to guess?" Kate looked at Dexter, her gaze unflinching.
Dexter nodded. She held his gaze for another long moment, then retrieved the papers. She gave them a cursory glance and let two of the pages fall to the floor, handing the remaining sheet to Dexter without a change in her expression. Dexter took his keys from the desk and rushed out of the room without another word.
*****
When Marcus carried Donna into the cabin she saw Paula and Celine watching her impassively from where they were tied to the bed.
He’d stripped off her clothing and shackled her to the frame of the bed before anyone spoke. Paula pressed herself against Donna and murmured that she was sorry.
"I knew about this cabin," Donna said defiantly to Marcus as he finished securing the chains. "I’m not the only one who knows." She still felt woozy but the fog in her mind was finally lifting.
"Oh, I don’t think so. Nobody knows about my little secret. You’re not the first to stay here. There’ve been others. Many others."
"You killed them?"
"We all die sooner or later. I just hastened the process a little."
"Where are they?" Donna asked, feeling sure she already knew the answer.
"In the lake. Tied up and weighted down, they’ll be there forever. Do you know this lake contains pike over three feet long? I’ve seen them. They’ll appreciate the meals I’ve provided for them."
"I knew you were watching me. I told people about that, and I’ll be missed soon. I’ve had that feeling of being watched for days and people know about those feelings. I’ve told the people I work with that I was being followed."
Marcus snorted, looking mildly puzzled. "There’s one problem with that."
"What?"
"I haven’t followed you. Why should I when I knew in advance where you’d be? I watched you running round the sea wall, not as fit as you think you are, I’d say. I let some of the air out of one of your tyres, then went to the gym and waited for you to arrive. So, I haven’t been following you. Perhaps you’ve got another admirer."
As he spoke, the door behind them crashed open and a dripping figure burst into the room, knocking Marcus to the ground with a stout piece of wood torn from a tree. Donna stared in astonishment at the sight of Gary, soaking wet and wearing only a pair of black underpants, as he dragged Marcus to his feet.
"She’s got another admirer right enough. I’ve been right behind her all the time."
Gary grabbed hold of Marcus by the ha
ir, yanking his head down and at the same time bringing up his knee with immense force into the man’s face. Donna heard the crunch of cartilage and bone as his nose broke. Marcus stiffened, momentarily in shock, allowing Gary to repeat the manoeuvre.
This time the noise was louder and Gary grunted as broken teeth pierced his knee. Marcus sighed, hardly a sound at all considering the pain he must have experienced, and sank to the floor. Gary kicked him with all his force, no doubt regretting that he was in bare feet and not his usual leather motorbike boots. The breath was driven out of the prone figure at his feet. Gary steadied himself and very deliberately kicked him again, full in the face.
Marcus made no sound and lay very still as Gary turned away, throwing the branch to the floor, and breathing heavily through his open mouth.
"How did you get here?" Donna asked, her sense of relief almost preventing speech.
"I’ve been following you around for ages. Quite a ride, all this way without lights, but the minute he pulled off onto the dirt road, I knew I was close."
"But…?" Donna looked at the doorway.
"The lake? I’m a swimmer, remember? Nothing to it."
As he faced her, still breathing hard, Donna saw something in his face that troubled her. His expression was triumphant, but there was more to it than that, something almost feral in his expression which made her want to avert her eyes.
Gary crossed to the bed and examined the handcuffs briefly, then returned to where Marcus lay on the floor and rummaged in his pockets until he found a small shiny key. Gary stood up, holding the key aloft and returned to the bed, released the shackles from Paula and took her naked body in his arms. That uneasy feeling returned as Donna watched their passionate embrace, so much more than she would have expected from brother and sister-in-law, even allowing for the exceptional circumstances of this reunion.
Her feelings of disquiet increased a hundred-fold when Gary made no attempt to release either herself or Celine. He and Paula remained locked together, her arms around his neck, oblivious to anyone else.
"Very touching."
Gary broke away as Marcus spoke. He was lying in a small pool of blood, his nose and mouth still bleeding, but his eyes were bright. Like a cornered animal, spitting defiance.
"Shut it!"
Gary rushed across the cabin and kicked Marcus again and again in the face until his bare foot was covered in blood.
"When will you tell her about the fire?"
Gary stiffened, his shoulders hunched.
"We both know it wasn’t me." Marcus tried to rise, his hand sliding in the blood that was spreading across the floor.
Gary stooped to where Marcus lay and stuffed a filthy rag into his mouth. Donna saw the whites of his eyes.
"His nose is broken," Donna shouted. "He can’t breathe."
"So? Just keep your mouth shut. This has nothing to do with you. You were just a way of getting me close to him. I’ve been following you for days. I knew you’d lead me to him eventually."
Donna had a sudden flash of realisation. "It was a set-up. The fire at your house. You deliberately made yourself homeless, didn’t you?"
Gary smirked. "Why not? I could see you fancied me from the time you came to the house with Dexter. A softhearted mug like you offering me a place to kip was very handy. I needed to get close to someone who could help me find Marcus Green and what better way could there be? I knew he’d get the blame for the fire." He smirked. "The sex was a nice bonus."
Donna felt sick.
Paula walked stiffly across the cabin, her arms extended for balance as if she were on a high wire. She reached past Gary and plucked the gag from Marcus’ mouth. Gary put up his hand in a feeble protest, but she pushed him away.
"I want to hear him speak," she said, her voice defiant.
Marcus grinned through shattered teeth at Paula and Gary standing either side of his prone figure
He nodded his head towards Paula. "I thought she’d done it, started the fire. I’d been watching the house for days. When she came to see me in prison, I was certain of it. I lost thirteen years of my life because of that fire. Someone had to pay for that." He turned his head, speaking directly to Paula.
"I’d been watching the house since your bitch of a sister got me suspended. I knew about you and him even back then. Your lover here would have been my next guest. It looks like he couldn’t bear to wait his turn. You two were the only ones who would benefit from the death of his children. "
Paula looked stricken. "How could you think that?"
"Mum," Celine cried. "What’s he mean about you and Uncle Gary?"
Gary sprang forward, one link of the handcuffs clenched in his fist, and swung the other link at the up-turned face of Marcus. Donna turned away at the sickening crunch and when she raised her head again Marcus lay unconscious on the floor.
Celine began to wail and Donna shuffled towards her, managing to just touch her arm at the extreme range of the chains that confined her. Celine stopped crying at the touch and subsided quietly, curling herself into a ball, eyes clamped as if to shut out the scene before her.
"Gary," Paula said, her voice barely audible. "Is it true?"
"The fire was meant for Helen. Losing the children was never part of the plan. I’d arranged to be well away when it happened, working in Edinburgh. The children were at their grandparents for the night. It should have been just Helen in the house. I set a timer for two in the morning. I knew she’d have been well out of it – the neurotic cow took a sleeping pill every night. I just never expected the stupid bitch to bring the kids back home."
Paula looked distraught. "I don’t believe it," she said, her face white.
"I did it for you," Gary shouted. "Can’t you see that? She’d never let me go, you know she wouldn’t. I never meant for the kids to be there."
Celine looked at her mother bleakly. "You were having an affair with him." It wasn’t a question.
Paula shivered. "Yes, for some years. It was one of those things that just happened. It all ended after Helen died. My decision. I couldn’t go on with it. I felt bad enough as it was without the guilt of taking her place. You must believe me, I never knew about this. Never even dreamt he’d been the one responsible for the fire."
Donna believed her. Misery and shock were etched on Paula’s face.
Donna turned to Gary, with a sudden a flash of insight. She’d remembered a photograph on Paula Dobson’s bedside table. Paula and her sister, like two peas in a pod.
"When you watched that video tape? You thought it was your dead wife, didn’t you? That’s what shook you up."
Gary nodded. "Too right it shocked me. Thought the bitch had come back to haunt me." He gave a mirthless laugh.
Donna grimaced. "You never once mentioned your wife," she said. "When you talked about the fire, you always said how much you missed the two girls, but never your wife."
"A bit late for memories, isn’t it? Not as clever as you thought are you? I missed my kids, but I never missed her. I hated her. Hated her even more for bringing my kids back to the house that night of all nights. When I saw that video tape, I thought for a moment it was her, a bloody ghost, then when I realised it was Paula, I knew I needed to get to Marcus Green before he came for me."
"You bastard," Paula hissed.
"Why don’t you tell your precious Celine the rest?" Gary stood over her, his face contorted. Paula shook her head, her expression stricken.
"Don’t do this," she pleaded.
Gary laughed grimly. "She has a right to know. Not that it will be the best news she’s ever heard, considering the circumstances."
Donna guessed from the expression on his face what he was going to say, but was unable to speak.
Gary looked at Celine, his expression defiant. When he spoke, it was a shout, his voice echoing through the cabin. "I’m very probably your Dad."
Paula turned away, shoulders down. Celine looked at her, and then back at Gary.
"No!"
"Oh, I’ve never been sure, but I’ll bet she knows. Ask her."
Celine looked at her mother, but said nothing. There was no need. Paula looked crushed.
Gary grinned triumphantly. "I wanted to tell you years ago, but she wouldn’t have it. That useless bastard you called Daddy never knew the truth. I’m only sorry that I never got the chance to tell him."
Donna felt a chill seep into the cabin. Gary looked back towards Donna.
"Nobody wants to say anything all of a sudden. What about you, Donna? Cat got your tongue?"
Forcing herself to look at him, Donna saw the glint of madness in his eyes. Paula looked stricken, her face drawn. She was ageing before their eyes, gaze fixed on her daughter. Celine looked back at her without expression, her eyes blank pools.
As Donna pulled once more at the ropes that bound her, she heard the sound of distant sirens. Gary started. He’d heard them too.
"Dexter," Donna said out loud, her voice exultant. She’d kept the vague hope at the back of her mind that Kate would have been able to pinpoint the location of the cabin from the details she’d sent to her earlier. The odds had been three to one, but it looked like Kate had made the right choice.
"What now?" Donna said, unable to keep a note of exultation out of her voice. "Hadn’t you better untie us?"
Gary grinned menacingly. "Oh, I don’t think so. This changes nothing. I was quite prepared to be the hero who rescued you from the clutches of this murderer." He kicked out at the still figure of Marcus. "But now he’s spilled all my secrets, I think you’d better stay here. I heard what he told you about the bodies in the lake. I had intended that he could join them, but perhaps not."
Gary went over to Paula, seizing her roughly by the arm. "Are you coming with me? Last chance."
Paula shook her head, shrinking away from his touch.
"Your loss."
He dragged Paula across the cabin and refastened the link of her handcuff to the bed frame. He tugged hard on the metal chain, checking that Paula was securely tied. Donna saw the links cutting cruelly into her wrist, but she barely flinched.