by Saul, Jonas
Spencer had spent a lot of time at the hospital with him, taking his statement and piecing everything together, step by step, and eventually they had gotten closer, bonding over the ordeal. They had talked about sports. Drake wanted to golf again before the summer was out, and Spencer wanted to catch a few ball games.
When Spencer called him yesterday, he’d accepted and just now realized how lucky he was, standing in the warm Toronto sun, anticipating a cold beer and a hot dog, a good game and companionship with the lead cop on the case who saved his life a few weeks ago.
He took in a deep breath and thanked God he was still standing. Two weeks ago he had been shot and was about to be kicked off the edge of a cliff, but Spencer had showed up in time. Drake had picked up a baseball bat and broke the shooter’s head as bullets zinged by him.
He laughed. A baseball bat stopped the madness, and here he was, about to watch the game of baseball.
Weird how shit works out.
A hand slapped his shoulder and he jumped.
“I found a great spot up close,” Spencer said as he joined him in line. “Wow, slow lineup.” He looked at his watch. “Oh well, we still have over an hour before the game starts.”
“Spencer, I wanted to thank you for taking me out to the ball game today.”
“Whoa, you gonna start singing?”
“No, no, just, it feels good to be out again.”
Spencer stepped back a little and faced Drake. “You almost got killed. It’s about time you started living.”
“I know, I know, but it’s over. What I have to live with now is the threat of Ferenci. He left me that note and no one has been able to find him. He could be anywhere, lurking around with a gun, anxious to put a few holes in me.”
“We have guys looking for him as we speak. I’m here with you and I’m armed. You’re safe. Everything will be okay.”
“I’m excited about this … so why do I feel spooked?” Drake asked as the line moved forward. “I know this is my first time in public again, but it’s over, right?”
Spencer tapped him on the shoulder. “I’ve got your back.”
They made it to the ticket window, bought their tickets and started for the doors.
“We got great seats,” Spencer said. “We’re about eight rows up from the third baseline. This’ll be awesome.”
They entered the stadium and walked through security, Spencer showing his detective ID. After collecting a couple beers and hotdogs, they made their way toward the seats.
Drake’s uneasy feeling increased. There were too many people. It felt like some of them were staring at him. He’d seen uniformed officers walking among the patrons too.
“Spencer, why are there so many uniformed cops here?”
“That’s normal at a major event like this. They hire them for security.” He stopped talking to drink from his beer cup. “You’ll see them out on the field too. Very common. Nothing to worry about. There’s been no call for beefed-up security. This is completely normal.”
Drake took a long swallow of his Canadian Ice beer and followed Spencer to their seats. They walked down the cement steps until they reached their row, edged in and sat down.
The field seemed massive as was the roof, which sat open for the game. Drake was happy he’d brought his sunglasses. The sun beat down on them and would continue to for the next few hours.
Maybe I should’ve brought sunblock.
Spencer looked at his watch. “The game doesn’t start for another forty-five minutes yet. Once it does start, if those two seats four rows up aren’t taken, we’re moving closer to the action. Deal?”
“Deal.”
Drake knew he should be having a blast, but the ominous feeling wouldn’t abate. Something bothered him deeper than his reluctance to come out in public after what had happened to him just weeks ago.
It was like someone was watching him. Would today be the day Ferenci tried to kill him as he had threatened two weeks ago? Would Spencer be able to stop it?
Drake took another long gulp of his beer and decided to let it go. He’d never be able to enjoy the game if he constantly thought about Ferenci. That part of his life was over. The cops would pick up Ferenci and all would be well with the world again.
Drake looked down and saw he’d almost finished his beer.
“Spencer, I’m going to head back up and grab another one. It went down too quick.”
“Get me one too,” Spencer said, handing Drake a twenty. “If I’m not here when you get back, I’ll be in those two seats up ahead.”
“Got it,” Drake said and headed up the stairs.
His shoulders shuddered with the distinct feeling of being watched.
Chapter 5
Elmore got to the bottom of the stairs and stopped. He admired what he’d created. Two cages, both with vertical bars for a door, the walls made of cement blocks he’d piled to the roof. He couldn’t believe he had done so well. Over two years of having multiple women and not a single problem. No police nosing around. Not a single escapee.
And there never will be. My house is a fortress.
Jackie lay on the cot, wrapped in the thin blanket he allowed her to have. He smiled at the thought of the fun they’d had, but it was time for her to go. She disgusted him now. She had brought this on. It was her fault. Having to deal with her caused him stress. If only she’d been better, nicer.
Why couldn’t you have been stronger? Like a Sarah? I might have kept you longer.
He stepped closer to the bars and stared down at her. Under the thin sheet, she was dressed in panties. That was the only clothes any of his girls were allowed to wear. The panties were changed twice a day and then they were shipped out to men all over the globe who yearned for the smell of a woman. If Jackie only knew how much money she had made him, she would be surprised he had to dispose of her.
The table behind him had all the tools he’d need. Elmore stepped over to it, grabbed a book of matches and a nail clipper and walked back to the cell door. He tore off one match, lit it and then tossed it at Jackie. The lit match almost extinguished itself in flight, but made it to her skin and flared out. Jackie moved a little in her sleep.
He tore off three matches, lit all of them together and tossed the trio at her. This batch stayed aflame better and landed on her ankle. It burned bright for a moment — then Jackie jumped and screamed.
They never seem to get used to the burning.
Jackie got to her feet and stood in the middle of her cell, staring at him. He knew she would be afraid as this wasn’t a normal visit. The clock on the cell wall had a purpose. He came with breakfast and he came with dinner. Then he came at nine in the evening, on the dot, every night and they were to be ready for him. With dinner, Jackie received a wet cloth and enough water to bathe and a new pair of panties. She knew, one odor, one speck of dirt on her person, and she would pay dearly. She had learned early. Pain was a serious motivator.
Elmore held the nail clipper out until it reached between the bars. Jackie hesitated for only a moment, then stepped closer in her bare feet and took the clipper.
Without a word, she attended to her fingernails. He’d been letting her grow them lately as her time with him was coming to a close.
The thrill of a new girl always stirred things in him that a girl of six months could never do. He would grab one this week or next week from the studio. It would be easy. The stupid girls put themselves out there, naive and vulnerable, almost announcing to the world that they want to be taken.
They show up at his studio to do a photo shoot in a pair of panties. During the shoot, they spill their life story. Mother doesn’t love them, family disowned them, living on the streets or with friends. No one knows they’re there, but they needed some quick cash. He butters them up and offers a premium contract for the studio that’s north of Toronto. To consider the job, they could come and see the studio. After agreeing, they end up in his cage. The cameras at L’Amore Studio would show the photo shoot, how profession
al it was and then the girl getting paid and leaving. What the camera doesn’t show was the girl walking out to the alley and getting in his car. No camera, or no one, ever set eyes on them again.
Jackie had been so easy. A clean girl who had been kicked out of her boyfriend’s house after a night of boozing. She’d explained to Elmore that her mother told her to not call begging for help if she ever shacked up with Mark. She’d had nowhere to turn. After three days in a shelter, Jackie had applied for the photo shoot and within two hours, she had been locked in Elmore’s cage.
The girl before Jackie got a fast execution. Elmore gave her a farewell hour of forced sex while Jackie was made to watch from her cage, and then he slit her throat. He remembered it distinctly because of how much blood there had been. It made him angry to no end that she could bleed that much, all over his clean floor. It took him two days to get the cell clean to the exact standard he expected from his hostages.
During those two days he’d forgotten all about feeding Jackie. He had heard her cries and her pleas, but ignored them as his anger overrode any sense of humanity.
And now it was Jackie’s turn. At least the next girl would be spared Jackie’s final moments.
She finished with her fingernails and had collected them all without dropping a single one as previously instructed. Jackie stepped closer to the bars and reached out to Elmore. He took the nails and examined them.
Good. A great batch that’ll immortalize Jackie at least for the next month or so.
He looked back at her near naked form and nodded toward her feet. Jackie looked down and understood. She bent to her knee and started in on her toenails. Once each foot was clipped, she handed all those nails to Elmore who took his loot and stepped to the table to place them in a small bowl where they’d be washed and ready for his teeth at a later date.
He stood back in front of her cell and pointed at the only piece of clothing she wore.
The panties.
Again, without pause, she understood and slowly slipped them off, not allowing them to touch the floor.
Elmore could see the worried look on her face and he knew why. Since this wasn’t his regular visit and he hadn’t supplied her with the requisite cloth to bathe with, would he use her body as he always did? If he did, she wouldn’t be as clean and that was never good for Elmore.
He understood. But that was the only way to deal with filth. He had to get down and dirty to root filth out. He needed to lay with her as the unclean thing she was and then he could be angry enough to remove the stain that she was from his world.
Jackie handed him her last pair of panties. He laid them down in the box that would be shipped out in the morning with the pictures he’d taken of her earlier that authenticated the use of the panties.
If the customers who bought the underwear ever knew how authentication was attained, he wondered how many would continue to purchase them.
Jackie stood in the center of her little prison, naked, shivering with fear, not cold, looking pathetic.
How dare you? Come here and act like you’re someone special. I will teach you what’s special.
Other than the little mattress he allowed them as a cot and the small thin sheet for a blanket, there was a waterless toilet and nothing else in the cell. He couldn’t allow them any way to off themselves. He also had to be careful that they wouldn’t discover a weapon to attack him with when he entered their cells for his evening pleasure.
Elmore pulled the cell keys from his pocket and found the one for Jackie’s door. For a moment the room blurred in his vision. It was always this way. His anger would rise and become a fury. In that final moment, all that mattered was the girl and removing the stain that she had become.
“No, no …” Jackie whimpered and stepped away from the door.
“Why no, Jackie? After six months, you’re used to me by now.”
“Not at this hour. You never come in the afternoon.”
“Am I required to check with you when I want to alter the schedule?”
The lock clicked, the cell door opened. He eased it open all the way. At any other moment, he knew she would be pretty. One hundred and thirty pounds, tanned skin, nice cup size and long, pretty hair. Two, three months ago, she was. He had enjoyed her labors. But now she was dirty, unclean. What Elmore did with grime was wipe it out.
“No. I just … what I mean is … I’m scared.”
“It’ll be okay, Jackie. After today, we are done here.”
It must be something akin to how cows feel when they’re being led to the slaughter house. An innate sense of impending doom. They know their fate and are powerless to stop it. In Jackie’s eyes, she knew her time had come. But Jackie wasn’t a cow. She acted more like a squirrel stuck in a corner as a large attacker advanced. The violence he detected coming off her in waves surprised him.
He stood three feet from her when she raised both her hands to ward him off.
“No, please, I’ll do whatever you ask.”
Nothing in Elmore that would be considered rational heard a word she had said. All he felt, all he saw and all he desired was an end to her. An end to the fake relationship she had made him conduct with her. An end to the wondering if someone would knock on his front door looking for her. An end. That’s what Elmore needed now.
Jackie moved to the back wall as Elmore edged closer. He brought his hands to the lip of the underwear he wore and slowly lowered the pair to his ankles. Now with his member exposed, it hardened further with anticipation.
Then Jackie sprung. Off the wall she flew at him with the violence of Tie Domi in his prime.
Elmore hadn’t expected it. She caught him off balance. He faltered and stepped backwards until he hit the bars.
Jackie’s small fist smacked him in the face, then the mouth. His response delayed, she ran past him and headed for the stairs, her flesh barely bouncing as she’d lost weight in the time she’d spent with Elmore.
He let her go, wiping at the blood that had started to seep from his split lip.
“This is going to cost you,” Elmore shouted.
Jackie made it to the top of the stairs. What she didn’t know was that Elmore had locked the metal door behind him and the only way out was with the key he held in his pocket.
He picked up his underwear, slid them back on and stepped from the cell. Pain made him angry, not horny. Jackie still had to be removed, but now it wouldn’t be because she had made him filthy with her feminine touch, but because she had hurt him.
“It’s time to pay for your misdeeds.”
“Noooo,” Jackie screamed from the top of the stairs.
“Stupid bitch,” he said as he looked at his table of tools. A handsaw, a screwdriver, and many other devices she could’ve used as a weapon sat out in the open. Instead, she had run for the stairs. He knew it was the female condition. Just being born was enough to fuck them up.
He chose the Craftsman screwdriver. If he wasn’t going to screw her, he’d let his tool do it for him.
Jackie remained at the top of the stairs, shivering, crying, her arms wrapped around her nakedness.
It was a sight he would remember. Jackie had served him well.
“Goodbye, Jackie.”
Elmore started up the stairs, one slow step at a time. His tongue came out and tasted the blood on his lip as it clotted, the slight sting of the punch lingering.
On the fourth step, Jackie sprang into action. He’d advanced slowly. Based on her performance in the cage, he had expected it.
Jackie screamed like a feline in a full fight with another as she jumped two stairs and dove at Elmore. He braced himself and lifted the long screwdriver, aiming for the center of her chest.
It connected cleanly and entered her ribs between her breasts. Her weight drove Elmore back until they both fell. The hard basement floor proved unforgiving. He hit his elbow hard enough to cause pins and needles to course through his left hand.
But Jackie hit harder. She smacked down and rolled onto
her back, her mouth bleeding after making contact with the floor directly. A couple teeth had cut through her lip. She rolled her head back and forth, moaning, crying and trying to figure out what had happened to her chest.
He watched as she lifted her head and realized it was the screwdriver’s handle that stuck out of her skin. Her breathing becoming more and more labored.
Elmore got up slowly and moved closer. Her eyes were wide, her nostrils flaring in their feeble attempt to claim as much air as they could catch. But it was no use. Blood began to slip past her lips. She was dying and there was nothing she could do about it.
Elmore looked up and down her body, once pretty, now broken and dirty. He wadded up a gob of saliva and spit on her stomach.