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The Circassian. "Wrong Side"

Page 19

by Bob Bidecant


  *****

  Jacobson stormed into the police station.

  ‘Where is Mikael Buitekant? He demanded to know.

  ‘He was locked up for his own protection Sir.’ Answered the desk Sergeant.

  ‘Well go and get him now.’ Jacobson barked.

  ‘We are waiting for detective Kelly to arrive to interview him, Sir.’ The Sergeant added.

  ‘Tell detective Kelly he can interview Mikael at my house later on, the address is on the card.’ He handed the Sergeant a printed calling card with his details on. He was in a foul mood, he had been preparing his speech for the house of lords when the carriage driver returned and informed him that Mikael had been arrested, the detour had made him very late. The desk Sergeant pushed his luck a bit further.

  ‘We have a witness who identified him at the scene last night Sir.’

  ‘Do you, well he was in my house last night, he is my guest and a friend of my daughter. So your witness is wrong as I and all of my staff will stand in a court of law and testify. Go and get him out. Now!’The Sergeant didn’t argue, he didn’t need the card to know exactly who the man standing before his desk was, thoughts of annoying him any further disappeared from his mind. Mikael was brought to the desk.

  ‘Good god, bring me the officers who did this to him.’ Jacobson screamed, as he saw the cuts and bruises on Mikael.

  ‘It was the mob that did this Lord Jacobson, the police protected me. I cannot thank them enough, especially this man.’ Mikael tapped Williams on the shoulder as he walked passed him and smiled a thanks. Jacobson’s expression softened as he held his hand out to Williams who was also covered in cuts and bruises.

  ‘Well in that case thank you constable.’ Jacobson spoke gently to him. Williams wiped his hand down the front of his trousers before he accepted Jacobson’s, his shoulders went back as he stood to attention.

  ‘Come on Mikael I am late for the house of Lords.’ The desk Sergeant held a paper out for him to sign.

  ‘Can you sign this Sir?’ he asked.

  ‘No, now get out of my way and go and find a murderer.’ Jacobson replied curtly, brushing past him. Mikael followed him. He recognised Geordie’s face as the constable that saved him from being stabbed. ‘Thanks.’ He nodded, Geordie nodded back.

  ‘Well for all of fifteen minutes, we held the record for the quickest arrest of a murderer.’ The desk Sergeant said as he looked at Williams.

  ‘We’re lucky he didn’t make a complaint,’ said Williams. Then he thought for a second and added, ‘Wait a minute that means I got a bloody good hiding for bugger all.’

  Geordie chirped up.

  ‘Well at least you shook hands with a Lord of the realm.’

  ‘Well that makes my head hurt less then.’ Said Williams sarcastically as he went to make a second cup of tea.

  4.9

  Martha cursed as she struggled to turn the large key in the lock. The pub door was always difficult to close and she had a nightly battle with it.

  ‘Hello my lovely, how are you?’ Martha jumped as she heard the voice behind her. She turned quickly but then relaxed when she saw who had startled her.

  ‘You nearly gave me a heart attack,’ she said, still struggling with the large key. ‘You are too late for a drink luv, I’ve already closed. Why didn’t you come into the pub earlier. You bloody cheapskate you could have bought me a drink or two.’ But the man wasn’t listening, he was looking around the empty street. There was nobody in the area. As she turned to face him he placed his hands on her shoulders and leant forward kissing her on the cheek.

  ‘I didn’t come for a drink darling I came for something else.’ Said Putchin

  She smiled and stepped towards him. He looked around again and pushed her gently into the alley beside the pub. It wasn’t the first time she had been in the alley with a customer.

  ‘Blimey you are a fast worker, it’s a shilling all night or a tanner for a knee trembler here.’

  ‘A knee trembler?’ said Putchin. He had never the expression before.

  ‘Come on I’ll show you.’ She said, pulling him into the alley as she stepped backwards into the dark.

  The hand that came from behind her clamped over her mouth and Putchin stepped back as he watched the knife that appeared dragged across her throat. His eyes were drawn towards the cut, the skin opening like thin lips trying to speak, then the blood spewed out. He looked at her face as the blood pumped out of the gaping slit and down the front of her dirty white blouse, shuddering involuntary, he turned his gaze away.

  ‘Damn it.’ He said. He knew he shouldn’t have looked in her eyes, another face to join the others that came in his nightmares. He heard her body slip to the ground and then the unmistakable sound of the knife frenziedly entering her body time and time again. He felt the bile rise in his throat as he fought the impulse to throw up.

  ‘Enough, Jaak lets go.’ He said but the noise continued. ‘Stop.’ He said abruptly and the sound stopped.

  He entered the alley and stepped over her body, his shoe leaving several bloody footprints in the alley as the two men walked silently out of the back and through the rows of small houses to a black hansom cab waiting for them in the main road.

  The cab took them to the back door of the Bethnal Green Sanatorium. It was opened as the two men stepped out of the cab. They walked quickly through as it was shut and bolted behind them.

  Jaak was undressed by the nurse and lay back on his bed, where they tightened his arm restraints. Gurin injected him with cocaine and then called him out of his trance. Putchin was waiting for him outside and the two men walked to a quiet corner of the corridor before speaking.

  ‘How did it go?’ Gurin asked.

  ‘He is enjoying it a bit too much for my liking,’ Putchin answered. ‘I had trouble stopping him, he must have stabbed the woman fifty times.’

  ‘What you mean he didn’t stop on your command like I told him to?’

  ‘Yes, he did but I forgot what you told me, I didn’t use the word “stop” so he just kept going.’ Gurin looked at Putchin’s face, it was tight with anxiety. Putchin had been in some fierce battles and was not easily shocked or scared.

  ‘Are you feeling alright?’ Gurin asked him.

  ‘No not really, look Alexi I am a soldier, but what he did tonight has nothing to do with war. He did not just kill her, he slaughtered her. He didn’t want to stop he was enjoying it so much. Alexi this man is evil.’

  Gurin thought for a moment,

  ‘Go home and get some sleep.’ He watched as Putchin left. Gurin had convinced Jaak that Martha was Russian as he had done with Sinclair, Jaak needed no more motivation than that, he wanted to kill Russians. Not just kill, he wanted to destroy the person. Jaak laid back on the bed, he had a hazy recollection of the night, but he couldn’t remember much about it. Just a feeling that something had happened that made him feel good.

  4.10

  As the cocaine worked its way into his system a feeling of euphoria began to fill Jaak. He drifted in and out of a light sleep, a hand touching his foot woke him up. It slowly moved up to his ankle, a woman’s touch, soft and soothing. He opened his eyes and looked around, the room was dark except for a small lamp on the wall. He was laying on his side. There were no restraints keeping him on his back and he was naked. He wanted to see who was touching him but a hand pulled him gently back. He felt fingers slowly grip his neck, becoming stronger as the nails dug into his skin. Pain aroused him and he felt himself becoming erect. He felt hands caressing his back, moving slowly across his shoulders, fingers playing along his multitude of scars. Then onto the nape of his neck. Another hand moved slowly across his lower back and up to his waist. It paused and then the fingers reached over his side and slowly down towards his penis. The fingers stroked him from the base to the tip and then back down again, the second time, stopping at the tip, the finger and thumb slowly rotating around the head. He groaned with pleasure, the pain fro
m the fingers digging into the side of his neck intensified it. It felt like electric shocks running up and down his body as he writhed in ecstasy enjoying the feeling of being naked.

  He felt a woman’s hand pulling his left arm back over his head pinning it to the bed. He trembled as her long hair touched against his skin, her cheek rested on his belly then moved down towards his genitals. It stopped at his arm, which was lying across his navel. She pushed his hand out of the way with her forehead, soft lips touched the top of his penis, her tongue flicking in and out like a snake. He caressed her hair as her mouth opened and closed. She teased him with her tongue. He moved his hand to the back of her head forcing her lips further down onto him. Two hands pulled his right arm back and he lay helplessly with both arms held above his head. She teased him again and again, then stopped. Her lips moved forward and back, slowly at first and then faster and faster until Jaak arched his back and his whole body violently shuddered. She slowed down the movement and then stopped. He lay there panting, his mouth open, gasping for air. He felt the hands release his arms. He moved his right hand down and slid his fingers through her hair, gripping a handful of hair, he pulled her head back and turned it to see the face of the woman who had given him so much pleasure. His smile disappeared and he let out a gasp of shock. An old, ugly face looked at him, smiling, she licked her lips and then opened her mouth laughing. Jaak felt the bile in the back of his throat, he held back an impulse to throw up. He stared at her again and realised who she was. It was the old woman who had killed Isabelle. Jaak screamed out in rage, like an animal that was about to unleash all its hatred onto one person. He pulled her head towards him with his left hand, His right hand grabbed at her throat to throttle her with all his strength. He stopped suddenly, his fingers found only air, he lifted her up by the hair. Her head had no body attached to it.

  Jaak screamed and threw it away from himself. It hit the bed and collided with another head. Jaak tried to draw his knees up but hands held his feet. His bed was covered with dead people, severed heads lay everywhere he looked. Old, young, men and women. They were everywhere. They were all calling his name, mouths opening and closing, eyes staring at him. The fingers around the back of his neck dug into him with a superhuman strength. It held him so hard he was unable to move his body. Suddenly it let go. The hands around his ankles were pulling him from the bed. He struggled onto his back, his hands gripping the side of the metal bed frame, kicking wildly. He felt hands stroking his hair, soft woman’s hands.

  ‘Jaak, Jaak,’ he heard a soothing voice call out to him. ‘It’s only a dream, darling don’t be scared, mama is here now.’ He turned his head but couldn’t see her face as she sat behind him. He looked around the room, it was his home in Circassia. Suddenly she screamed and Jaak cried out as he watched a soldier drag his mother to a table and force her across it, lifting her dress to reveal her buttocks as he laughed at Jaak.

  Jaak couldn’t move, he stared into her eyes as she turned her head to look at him. Jaak tried to look at her face, he wanted to remember what she looked like. He could not, his eyes were locked onto hers and he saw nothing else but her beautiful green eyes, pleading for help.

  ‘I will help you mama,’ He screamed. He struggled to get off the bed but strong hands held him back, forcing his arms and legs against the bed. He opened his mouth to shout again at the soldier to stop, but a hand came around the back of his head and stuffed something into his mouth, then another. He tried to scream but no noise came from him no matter how hard he tried, the hands smothered him, fingers held his nose and he began to suffocate. Jaak stared at his mother through the fingers that clamped over his face. The soldier turned his head and looked at him laughing, his hips slamming into his mother’s backside. Jaak stared at his face as he pulled her head back and drew his knife across her throat. He recognised the soldier raping his mother.

  It was Gurin.

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