Lethal Ties

by Christmas, Helen

  With the air in his lungs rushing faster, he was beginning to hyperventilate.

  “Steady Joe, you’re doing well. Just tell us what was wrong.”

  “It weren’t gastric flu, that was bollocks!” A sob escaped his throat, a sound of utter defeat. “It was something worse that I can’t repeat. I ‘spect you know.”

  “There is no need to feel embarrassed.”

  Joe nodded. “I was only awake for a split second before someone came in and injected me with a needle.”

  “Injected you? You mean they kept you sedated?”

  “I guess so, but that’s all I know. Looking back, it seems like a bad dream ‘cos before I knew anything else, I was in this new house, a bigger house and there were girls as well as boys.”

  “But what about the other boys at the party? Your friends?”

  “Never saw ‘em again, did I? We were moved about, separated, so’s none of us could talk about the party... and then finally I met Mortimer.”

  “The first time you met Cornelius Mortimer was in Orchard Grange?”

  “Cornelius?” Joe snorted. “So that’s his name! Yeah, I’d seen him before, but he never had much to do with me until the party. Even before that he gave me the creeps. Big and fat with greasy hair and wandering eyes. He reminded me of them strangers they warn you about in TV ads.”

  “So I gather you saw more of him living at Orchard Grange.”

  “Didn’t take long to suss he was a bad man, given them thugs he hired. Schiller and Mikolov. See, a lot of the kids were unruly and there was violence, but most of it went unnoticed. The only times they intervened, they used force. Restraint for example, pinning a kid to the floor face down, trapping their arms and legs...”

  He had never forgotten their fists, hard as manacles, not to mention the bruises left in the aftermath.

  “But then I met Maisie and things got a bit better for a while.”

  “You were close, weren’t you? And you said in your statement that she too was taken to one of those parties...”

  Joe clenched his fists, feeling the blackness of rage rip his heart open. Repeating his account should have purged him. Yet it never got any easier.

  “I had to stop her going. She was so sweet and innocent and the thought of those dirty bastards getting their hands on her... I couldn’t stomach it. That’s why I locked her in the laundry room, thinking she’d be safe... but they found her.”

  “So she went to the party,” Mike finished gravely. “What then?”

  “Dunno,” Joe sighed. “I didn’t see her for a week and when she did come back she was different. Quiet, lost in another world. I asked her where she’d been but she couldn’t remember nothing. It’s like her memory had been erased.”

  “Did you ever voice your suspicions?” the DI frowned.

  “No way. Oh man... I doubt if she could have handled it, and I was scared stiff, still black and blue after that beating they’d given me.”

  Mike flinched but didn’t linger on the subject.

  “So what about when Sam turned up?” he asked, the question dropped gently into the interview.

  Joe exhaled a shuddering sigh. “Sam was like Maisie. Soft as putty with a pretty face... and I don’t mean that in a gay sort of way, he just was!”

  “How did Mortimer treat him?”

  “Like he’d won a prize! Looked like he wanted to devour him.”

  He took a deep swallow, knowing what was coming. They wanted to ask him about the party they had attended together.

  For the first hour they’d tried to enjoy themselves... but if only he’d been more vigilant. He should never have taken himself away, given them a chance to inject him again, because whatever happened that night, Sam had dissolved into the ether.

  “I’m sorry,” Andrew said, his face a picture of gloom, “but please bear with us, I need to get a picture of the next day. Was it different from the time before?”

  “Oh yeah,” Joe whispered. “I woke up in my own bed this time and I didn’t feel ill or nothing, just drowsy. But something felt wrong, and then the bomb dropped. Sam was gone! Like he’d vanished into thin air.”

  His head snapped upright as another thought hit him.

  “And Mortimer was acting really weird.”

  “In what way?”

  “Agitated... like he had a wasp up his butt!”

  “But wasn’t he like that anyway?” Mike broke in.

  “No,” Joe persisted. “Most of the time he pretended to be nice but in a smarmy way. He acted like that to gain the kids’ trust, even though some of us had long sussed him out.”

  It was the not knowing that had been so unbearable. There was no denying Mortimer’s face had been ashen that morning, and after a few hissed words, it darkened to a thunderous shade of purple.

  Joe leaned forwards, the force of his hatred swelling.

  “That guy was a sick, twisted, evil fucker, and the sooner he’s locked up the better. Why do you think he set up homes for damaged kids? We were fodder for perverts like him; messed up kids from bad homes. And as for preying on Maisie and Sam... it made my fucking blood boil! I kept asking where Sam had gone. He said he’d been adopted but I never believed any of that shit!”

  He didn’t need to say more. They knew about the threats, the trolling; Mortimer was a man who harboured grudges, a man intent on hounding Joe to the grave.

  ******

  By the time Mike switched off the tape recorder, a strained silence bit the air. Joe loosened his tie. With emotions running high, so great was his fury, it erupted from him in sparks.

  “Are you alright?” Andrew tried to pacify him. “Sorry to have to put you through this again, but it’s essential we cover everything.”

  “I’m fine,” he snapped, though his body language said otherwise.

  Raking his fingers through his hair, he swept it from his forehead. A mist of perspiration glistened, and his face was flushed.

  “So is that it?”

  “It is for now,” Mike said, keeping his voice soft, “you’ve told us all we need to know and if anything else comes to mind, you can call us.”

  “So where’s Maisie?” he pressed. “Is she being questioned too?”

  “She’s in the hands of a female detective sergeant and Mark is with them but yes, they’re running over her statement again. Don’t worry, she will be treated with the utmost sensitivity.”

  Joe nodded, pacified. “What happens now, then? You’ve got our statements, but is it gonna be enough to nail those bastards?”

  Mike rose from his chair. “That’s what we’re here to discuss. Up until now, you’re the only witnesses who reported anything sinister about those homes. The question is, are you willing to stand up in court and testify?”

  “Bloody right I will!” Joe ranted as he too shot up from his chair, “but what’s happening with Mortimer? Have you found him yet?”

  Andrew released a sigh. “No, but we’re working on it. There has, however, been another breakthrough...”

  Joe’s mouth dropped open. Mike couldn’t wait to gauge his reaction to this disclosure but Maisie needed to be present.

  “Let’s go and join the others,” he added quickly.

  Fighting to suppress his excitement, he led him into the corridor, DI Fitzpatrick shadowing them.

  Seconds later, Maisie emerged through another door. Judging from her glazed expression, he couldn’t help wondering if she had also been informed there was some news.

  Yet as Joe wandered closer, a frown crossed her face.

  Clouds of tension filled the air as they stared at each other. “Do you know what’s going on?” he whispered.

  She shook her head.

  DC Mark Anderson was next to catch Mike’s eye, the suspense stretched to breaking point. Then with no further hesitation, he gave a consensual nod.

  “I won’t keep you in the dark any longer,” Mark announced. “There’s someone here to meet you. We were wondering if you might recognise him.”
<
br />   ******

  “Who is it?” Joe spluttered. “Has he made a statement?”

  “Just follow me, please,” DI Fitzpatrick said.

  As he led the way, Joe fell into step beside him, conscious of the others tailing them, until eventually they arrived outside a conference room.

  “He’s in there,” Andrew said, the hint of a smile softening his features.

  Joe tugged the door, impatience getting the better of him, but as he strolled into the room, he froze to a complete standstill.

  A flawlessly good looking man stood in the centre of the room, awaiting him. Joe took in the square jaw, the high forehead, the widely-spaced brown eyes.

  “Do I know you?”

  “Yes you do, Joe,” he said.

  A cold, leaden feeling anchored him to the floor. The whole scene had the unreal quality of a dream.

  Risking a glance at Maisie, he heard a gasp.

  Shock dilated her eyes as she stood there, gaping at the newcomer. He smiled with undisguised pleasure.

  “Maisie?”

  Their eyes met in a flash of recognition and suddenly the truth dawned.

  “Oh my God, Joe,” she gulped, fingers flying to her mouth. “It can’t be!”

  PART TWO

  Sam

  Chapter Forty-Two

  “Sam?” I breathed in disbelief.

  The man staring back bore an uncanny resemblance to the boy we remembered as Sam, but the recognition dawned in stages. First it was his hair, more ash than blonde. Yet where Joe’s features had evened out, Sam’s had become more magnified.

  “Shit,” Joe whispered. “Are you for real?”

  I watched in a dream as the enigmatic figure stepped forward to embrace him.

  “I realise this must be a shock, but when I saw the appeal on social media, I had to come forward. So here I am.”

  To my relief, Joe hugged him back. I had long sensed his bewilderment, and no sooner did they break apart than he took another long, hard look at Sam.

  His eyes burned like lasers, searching deep into the other man’s soul. Then, as if to confirm his identity, he brushed Sam’s fringe back from his forehead. The unmistakable scar still showed.

  “Thank God you survived!” he said with a half smile.

  “It’s good to see you too, Joe,” replied Sam.

  I nodded my head, gratified to see Joe appeased at last.

  “So where the bloody hell did you go, and how come you’re here now?”

  “I’m sorry, at least give me a chance to explain.”

  Lingering in the doorway, DI Fitzpatrick cleared his throat. “Would you like some time alone to be reacquainted?” he asked.

  “Yes, please,” I nodded in gratitude.

  The door clicked shut, granting us some much needed privacy, and with the police out of earshot, I turned my attention back to Sam.

  “Joe and I tried looking for you! My friend, Sarah Summerville, even tracked down your social worker, which gave us hope. So what happened?”

  Sam lowered his eyes but not before I glimpsed a flicker of shock in them.

  “This’ll take a while to explain, but it’s time you knew the truth.”

  “Go on then,” Joe said. “It’s been twenty years.”

  A shiver of cold crawled over me as if someone had walked on my grave. The night of my hallucination still haunted me, and I could not take my eyes off him.

  But could this really be Sam, the friend we thought we had lost forever?

  Once the initial shock had subsided, we seated ourselves around the table. Joe took the lead, which suited me fine. I was too numb to speak.

  “First thing you should know is what the cops have been grilling me about,” he began.

  Sam’s face turned rigid.

  “The night of that fucking party,” continued Joe. “I woke up next day and you were gone, so why don’t we start there?”

  Sam looked uneasy as he drew a long shuddering breath. “Alright. Let’s just take this one step at a time, shall we?”

  “Sure,” Joe frowned, “but isn’t this why we’re here? They’ve obviously been picking over our statements to see if they tally.”

  “I guess you’re right,” Sam sighed, “and you’ve waited long enough to hear my story, though I warn you it is not pleasant.”

  “Just tell us,” Joe pressed. “Let’s go back in time, to the moment we were driven to that mansion.”

  “Yeah. Strange place to throw a party for the likes of us, wasn’t it?” Sam mused. “Some big house stuck out in the middle of nowhere.”

  A visible lump rippled his throat as he swallowed.

  “We played pool, if you remember. Neither of us knew how, we were just shooting balls into the holes but you said fuck it, might as well have some and that’s the last thing you said to me before everything turned a bit weird.”

  “In what way?”

  “What? You don’t remember leaving the party?”

  “I only went for a piss,” Joe grunted.

  “I think they drugged you,” Sam added. “Something happened to you, long before they brought the punch out for the rest of us to drink.”

  I heard a sob in his voice, and experienced a horrible sinking feeling. Joe froze. But in another secret part of my mind, I remembered him telling me this.

  Slipping away briefly, he was drawn into a web of shadows, where he had sensed another presence.

  “Mikolov!” Joe spat. “You’re right, I crept out to use the loo but it was dark. Enough for that thug to grab my arm and jab a needle in. They knew damn well I wouldn’t touch their hooch, so they had to knock me out another way.”

  He rubbed his arms as if cold.

  “It was Mikolov who brought you back,” Sam’s voice rose ominously. “You might not remember... but you were still in the lounge with us. Sat in a chair, just staring into space like a zombie.”

  “In other words, I was well out of it.”

  “Yes,” Sam said, “until finally it was our turn. Out came the punch bowl, as you’d already forewarned. I clung to my glass, knowing they were watching. Mikolov, Schiller, Mortimer...What they didn’t know, though, was that with every sip I took, I held it in my mouth for as long as I could, and spat it out.”

  “But surely they would have noticed,” I intervened.

  “I hoped they wouldn’t, not if I dripped it down my front. Think about it, Joe, we were dressed in black and I doubt if they twigged, ‘cos at the same time I was watching the other four, copying their reactions. One by one, they closed their eyes, heads flopping sideways and backwards... I did the same.”

  “Clever,” Joe muttered. “It didn’t just make you drowsy, it knocked you out.”

  “That’s what I thought. So if they were planning to drug us, I had to pretend. Fall back into my chair like I was unconscious.”

  Layers of memory peeled back like onion skin, exposing my deepest terror.

  It was impossible not to picture the same scenario; how in the second Mortimer wasn’t looking, I had emptied my own glass into a vase.

  “What happened after that?” I dared to whisper.

  Fear darkened his eyes, filling me with a sense of impending doom.

  “We were taken from the house to another place. Those thugs carted us outside. Lifted us into a four-by-four and drove off...”

  He turned away, his gaze lowered.

  “There were no roads, no cars, just a long muddy track, winding its way uphill. I could barely see a thing. The darkness was suffocating, wheels jolting over the ground, but I could tell we had entered a mass of thick woodland.”

  My heart pounded faster. “Go on.”

  “It felt surreal. I’d only swallowed a drop of that stuff but enough to make my head spin, and there was no telling what it was spiked with. A cocktail of sedatives, I guess, memory-loss drugs designed to lower our resistance? It sounds far-fetched, but once we were in that forest, we were laid in a circle, wrists bound with ties, and there were noises, strange whispe
rings... They seemed to follow us in there. It sounded for all the world like some religious chant.”

  A frown crumpled Joe’s forehead as he caught my eye.

  “Shit,” he muttered, “just like your nightmares.”

  His words seemed to trigger a reaction as Sam raised his head.

  “What nightmares? Sorry, Maisie, but is this going to upset you?”

  “Probably,” I croaked. “It’s like Joe says, this sounds very much like a recurring nightmare I’ve been having, but please... carry on with your story.”

  “It gets worse,” he warned.

  “I think we know where this is going,” Joe sighed. “We’ve talked about it, so come on, spit it out. We need to know if we were right.”

  “Okay,” he whispered, “so there’s this chanting echoing around the woods and getting louder... I saw lights flickering in the trees too and then shapes. Men carrying torches, wearing robes. Hooded robes. I couldn’t help thinking it was a dream, except I was awake. Only just, mind, and very drowsy, but enough to know it was real.”

  “And then what?”

  Writhing in his seat, he pushed his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know! I’m not sure I can bear to tell you.”

  “You have to,” I pressed. “I’ve been through enough psychotherapy to know how familiar this sounds, but how the hell did it end?”

  Sam shook his head. “If I tell you, nothing will ever be the same again.”

  “And I’ll never be able to live a normal life unless you do,” I argued.

  “Keep talking,” Joe pressed. “So far you’ve described a procession of weirdos carrying torches and chanting. This all sounds a bit dark, man.”

  “Those creatures looked barely human,” Sam shivered. “I couldn’t help thinking they were ghosts or demons, something summoned up by this ritual they were performing...”

  “Ritual?” I echoed.

  My eyes widened as I stared at Joe.

  “You really want to know? One after the other, those hooded things stepped forward and assaulted the boys. Ripping their clothes off, pawing them, going at them like they were pieces of meat... you couldn’t imagine anything worse.”