Souls At Zero (A Dark Psychological Thriller)

by Neal Martin

  As ever when Harry turned up at the house, she found it difficult to concentrate on anything after he left. He turned up in her life again just over a year ago, arriving at her door one day out of the blue. She remembered being shocked to see his massive form standing there at her door after so many years away, that scowling, serious face of his staring back at her.

  "Hello, Gemma," he had said, his voice as gruff as she remembered it. She had shook her head at him and asked what he was doing there. What did he want after all this time? He asked to come in so he could speak to her, but she had refused to let him in. She didn't want him in, despite the fact that somewhere deep inside herself, a part of her still loved Harry. Even when he walked away from their marriage twelve years before, she still couldn't help loving him. But he had made his choice, and he chose to go back to being a soldier rather than be with her. She tried not to hold that against him, as hard as it was. She knew who Harry was before she decided to marry him, but stupidly, she thought she would be enough to keep him away from the soldier's life. That was on her, which was why she didn't hold it against him when he told her one day that he was going to Iraq to work as a private contractor over there. He didn't say he was leaving her at that point. Gemma didn't think he was planning to. But there was no way she was going to sit every night worrying whether or not he was going get himself killed in that war zone like so many others had been. She didn't want to put herself through that, especially since she was also pregnant, though she didn't tell Harry that at the time. She was worried it might make him stay and then he would grow bitter because he felt trapped and unable to do what he wanted to do. So she kept the pregnancy from him and wished him good luck.

  Of course, he eventually found out that he had a daughter. They met again a few years later at his mother's funeral. Gemma remembered the look of shock on Harry's face when he saw her with the then three year old Kaitlin. It nearly killed Gemma when little Kaitlin ran up to Harry in the church. Harry crouched down, his eyes wet with tears, and Kaitlin smiled at him and gently wiped away the tears from his cheek with her little hand. Gemma never introduced Harry to Kaitlin as her father. Instead, she introduced him as her friend, Harry. After the funeral, he came to see Gemma at the house they once bought together off the Ormeau Road. He didn't say much. Gemma knew he only came to hear her say that it was okay that he didn't have to come home just because he had a child. She told him what he wanted to hear, and he left for Iraq again. He sent money every month after that though, without fail. Still did, in fact.

  Now, as she sat alone in an empty house, she couldn't help but think of Harry. Despite remarrying a few years after he left (and divorcing again), the connection she had with Harry never went away. She accepted a long time ago that the feelings she had for him would never go away, but that didn't mean she wanted him back in her life again. That ship had sailed for her, despite the fact that he was apparently home for good, and that he was done with soldering after nearly getting killed in Iraq. That news had shook her up when she heard it, she had to admit. She was actually contacted by the company he worked for out there and was told, as his emergency contact, that he was dead, having been killed along with twenty others in an ambush. The news devastated her. She came home from work and cried for hours, her grief made worse by the fact that Kaitlin would never know her father now. Then six hours after the first call, she got another phone call, this time from Harry himself, telling her that he was alive. She cursed him and hung up the phone, then cried for another few hours after. When she finally told Kaitlin about the incident, Kaitlin had cried as well, even though she didn't know her father at all. Gemma hated Harry for putting them both through so much pain.

  When he finally came home not long after asking if he could be in Kaitlin's life, Gemma point blank refused for months. She didn't believe him that he was done with soldiering. It was only after he bought himself an apartment in the city and got a full time job that she started to believe he was telling the truth, and gradually she allowed him into Kaitlin's life. She owed her daughter that much. Kaitlin deserved a father, and despite his failings, Gemma thought Harry could be a good father, which as it turned out, he was. Kaitlin took to him almost straight away. The resentment Gemma expected her daughter to have for him not being there was minimal. It seemed she was just glad to have a father at last, someone she could look up to and be proud off. And Kaitlin was proud of her father. She viewed him as some kind of protector figure, like Kingsley Shacklebolt from her beloved Harry Potter books, saving anyone that needed saving, helping anyone that needed helping.

  Harry took to Kaitlin right away as well. She brought out a different side to him, a softer, more vulnerable side, that Gemma herself had only caught glimpses off when she was married to him. It was obvious that he would die for Kaitlin if he had to.

  And that was part of the problem for Gemma. His willingness to be there for both her and their daughter was at odds with the cold front she often presented to him. She was careful never to give him any indication that she still had feelings for him, lest he think there was some chance they could reunite. That could never happen. Yet even as she thought it, somewhere in the back of her mind, a small part of her wanted it to happen. She put it down to residual feelings left over from the past. The fact was, she had moved on, despite the lingering feelings. So had he probably. It was about Kaitlin now. Nothing more.

  Gemma startled when she heard a knock at the door. She hadn't heard anyone come up the drive, and she figured it was probably the postman delivering yet another book that Kaitlin had badgered her into ordering for her from Amazon. But when she looked out the window she noticed the car parked outside on the street. A silver Skoda. Harry's car.

  Gemma's heart started thumping against her chest.

  "Harry," she said when she opened the door. She looked past him to see where Kaitlin was. "Where's Kaitlin?"

  Harry stood staring down at her, grim faced. "I need to come in," he said, in a voice that was even more serious than usual.

  Gemma stared hard at him as confusion and fear began to creep up on her. "What's happened, Harry?" she asked, hoping she was jumping the gun, that there was a perfectly good reason why Kaitlin wasn't with him, even though they had left together only a few hours ago. But when she looked into his dark brown eyes, she knew she wasn't over reacting. His face said it all. "Where is she, Harry? Tell me where my daughter is, please."

  "We need to take this inside, Gemma."

  She shook her head, but stepped back so he could come in. Her arms folded tightly across herself while she waited on him closing the door behind him. Tears were already forming in her eyes as her mind raced through a dozen different scenarios as to why her daughter was not with him, none of them good. "What is this, Harry?" Her voice cracked as she struggled to hold herself together. "You're scaring me here. Where's Kaitlin?"

  Harry took a deep breath as he kept his eyes on her. She could see the pain in his face, mixed with guilt and what she took to be shame. The last time she saw him look so twisted up inside was when he told her he was leaving her to go to Iraq. She couldn't even bring herself to breathe as she stood waiting. "I'm sorry, Gemma," he said, after an interminable wait. "Kaitlin…Kaitlin's been taken."

  "Taken?" She stared at him as she tried to fully understand what he was saying.

  "Kidnapped."

  "Kidnapped?" Her hand clamped over her mouth as her chest heaved, and she felt like she was going to be sick.

  Harry went to walk towards her and she stopped him. "No!" she shouted. "Tell me where Kaitlin is right now, or I swear…"

  "We we're in the cafe, on Botanic Avenue. I went upstairs to use the toilet. I came down, started eating my food along with Kaitlin. My coffee was drugged."

  "Drugged?"

  "I didn't know. Couldn't taste it. The next thing I knew…" He shook his head. "I was falling to the floor."

  "Who took Kaitlin, Harry? Who took her?" She could feel the rage boiling up inside her, cutting through her i
nitial shock like a knife.

  "There was a man, sitting behind me near the door. I didn't think anything of it until—"

  "Until he drugged your coffee?" She ran at him then, battering on his chest with her fists, hating him so much it hurt, but not as much as she hated herself for allowing him back into her life again, into her little girl's life. "I fucking hate you!" she screamed. "Why didn't you stay away? Why did you have to come back?"

  He did nothing for a moment. Stood there and let her hit him. Maybe he thought he deserved it. Either way, he did nothing to stop her, even when she punched him in the face twice, splitting his lip and hurting her hand at the same time. Eventually, he grabbed her arms and firmly held her as she kept wailing, her chest heaving as she tried to breathe. "I'm going to get her back. I promise you that, Gemma, I'll get our little girl back."

  "My little girl! You've had her barely six months and you lost her!" She twisted out of his grip and stormed off into the living room and then through into the kitchen, a constant stream of tears running down her face. "I can't believe this is happening," she kept repeating to herself as she tried to get her head around the situation. She went to one of the cupboards and took out a bottle of vodka, pouring herself a large glass of it before downing the full drink in one. Then she poured herself another and stood leaning against the kitchen worktop, as much for support as anything else, because she really felt like she was going to faint. Then she noticed Harry standing in the doorway and her anger came back again.

  "You better tell me what the fuck is going on, Harry," she demanded. "Or I swear, I will stab you with one of those knives over there."

  "Whoever took Kaitlin is obviously trying to get at me," he said.

  "Well that much is fucking obvious. Why though? What have you done, Harry?"

  He held his hands out helplessly and shook his head. "That's the thing, Gemma. I haven't done anything. I can't think why anyone would want to do this."

  "There must be a reason and you had better fucking think of it. We need to let the police know."

  "They already know. They were at the cafe. Besides, I don't think the police will be much help."

  "What? Why not?"

  "What are they going to do, Gemma? They can't do anything until we know who's done this."

  This just gets worse.

  Again, she felt her anger rise, underpinned by a feeling of helplessness that made her want to throw her glass at the man she saw as being responsible for this terrible situation she now found herself in. This was something that only happened in movies and foreign countries, not here in Belfast, not to her little girl.

  Then she remembered something. "Do you think this could have anything to do with your brother?"

  Harry gave her a sharp look. It was something they had only ever spoken about once, just before they were married. He refused to talk about it ever again after that, but now, she had no qualms about bringing it back up. "Why would this have anything to do with Declan?"

  "Because your brother was kidnapped, Harry, that's why. Don't you think there might be some connection there?"

  "No, Gemma, I don't."

  "Why not?" she asked, exasperated.

  Harry stared at her, obviously doing his best to remain calm. "That was twenty-six years ago, for a start."

  "So what? Who's to say it isn't the same people?"

  "Because they didn't fucking take Declan to get at me, that's why. I was fifteen at the time. You're forgetting they tried to take me as well."

  "That's right," she said. "You got away. Declan didn't."

  "What is that supposed to mean?"

  She shook her head. "Nothing. It just seems like too much of a coincidence, that's all. Your brother is kidnapped, then your daughter is…kidnapped as well." She wiped fresh tears from her face.

  "That's all it is, Gemma. A coincidence. I don't know who took Declan. No one does. He's—"

  "He's what, Harry? Dead? Is that what you were going to say?"

  Harry sighed. "Whoever took Kaitlin has nothing to do with whoever took Declan. If that was the case, they would have taken me instead. Someone else wants to get at me through Kaitlin."

  Gemma bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood in her mouth. "If she dies, Harry…"

  "She won't."

  "You don't know that!" she screamed back. She felt herself on the verge of hysteria, and it took everything she had for her to draw back from the edge and keep herself anywhere near calm.

  "Look," Harry said in a soft voice. "The best thing we can do at this stage is to wait on the kidnapper to make contact, which he will do."

  "You're sure about that? How many phone calls did you get from your brother's kidnappers? How many, Harry?"

  He closed his eyes for a second and shook his head.

  "That's right. None. You just never heard from your brother again."

  Harry walked forward then and grabbed her firmly by the arms. "Listen to me," he said, his eyes boring into her. "You need to stay calm, for Kaitlin. We are going to get her back."

  She twisted out of his grip and pulled away from him. "So what now? We just sit around and wait while Kaitlin is out there? God knows what they are doing to her…oh Jesus…" She ran to the kitchen sink and threw up into it, feeling like her whole insides were being ripped out of her. When she felt Harry's hand on her back she immediately sprang up and swiped his arm away. "Get the fuck away from me!" She stared at him, spit and vomit around her mouth, until he backed off. He looked hurt, upset, but she didn't care. She didn't care that Kaitlin was his daughter too and that he was probably as devastated as she was that someone had taken her. Gemma just couldn't see past the notion that everything was his fault. Someone kidnapped Kaitlin to get at him. Harry inserted himself into their lives in the first place. It was all on him.

  "Okay," he said after a moment. "I have to ask this, Gemma. Could this be related to you in anyway?"

  She was dumbfounded. "Are you kidding me?"

  "No. I just need to eliminate the possibility."

  Despite herself, she thought it over. It didn't take her long to conclude that no one hated her enough to kidnap her daughter. "Like I said, Harry. This is all on you."

  He nodded, knowing she was telling the truth. "The police are going to be contacting you soon. They know who I am. Just tell them whatever they want to know."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "I'm going to see John, try to figure something out. Wait for the kidnapper to make contact. If the police ask, you don't know where I am. I need time to sort this out."

  "That's it? You're just going to leave me here?"

  "What you want me to do, Gemma? I have to do something."

  "I'm going with you."

  "No. It's best you stay here and deal with the police when they come."

  She shook her head. "And what am I supposed to tell them?"

  "The truth. That you don't know anything."

  "Fuck this," she said. "I can't do this. I feel like I'm losing my mind here…" She grabbed her head with both hands and squeezed tight, like it would help somehow. It didn't.

  "As soon as I hear anything, I'll call you," he said. He stood looking at her for another moment, like he wanted to say something to make her feel better, but they both knew there was nothing he could say that would make the situation any better, so he turned and left without saying another word.

  When he was gone, Gemma lay down on the cold tiles of the kitchen floor and sobbed at the possibility of never seeing her daughter again.

  Or worse, that her daughter might end up dead.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Edger left his ex-wife's house feeling worse than when he went in. As expected, the news of Kaitlin's abduction had all but crushed Gemma. He knew how strong she could be however, and he was counting on that strength to get her through this nightmare situation. His own guilt was crushing him just as much. When he was speaking to Gemma, he deliberately left out the fact that he had felt like he was under surveillance f
or the last couple of weeks, maybe even longer than that. In any case, it had only been the last two weeks that he had gotten any sense that someone was watching him from afar. Not all the time, but enough of the time to raise his hackles. Of course, he couldn't have been sure, which is why he didn't do much about it. A few times he had taken counter measures while driving, even going as far as doing a bug sweep of his apartment, but he found nothing. Whoever was following him, they were good, because he never caught sight of them once. Apart from last night, when he had noticed the glowing ember of a cigarette across from the river at his apartment. But that could have been anybody. How was he to know his daughter was about to be abducted? Regardless, the guilt was eating him up. All of his training and experience, he should have known. He should marked the guy sitting behind him in the cafe. But again, it was just a guy, a guy that gave no indication he was about to steal Edger's daughter away.

  As he drove towards the office in Donegal Square, Edger thought about the man in the cafe. Who the hell was he? And what did he have against Edger? The guy had a baseball cap on, and never once looked up at Edger in the cafe, so Edger didn't even get a proper description of the guy. Nothing about him rang any bells. Maybe the cops would get something from surveillance cameras in the cafe, if indeed the cafe had any. Edger didn't recall ever seeing any inside the place. He knew there was cameras on some of the other businesses on the street, so maybe they would have caught something. If not the guy's face, then a car number plate. Every instinct Edger had though told him that the kidnapper was a professional. The whole thing was too well planned for an amateur. Drugging Edger's coffee like that, sitting right behind him as he waited on the drug to do its work, then abducting Kaitlin in broad daylight on a busy street. That took balls, and nerves of steel. Only someone experienced could have pulled that off without fucking it up. But again, who?

  Edger phoned Rankin before he arrived at the office in Donegal Square, glad when Rankin picked up the office phone. "John, it's me," Edger said, trying to squint away the headache that still thudded at his head. A leftover effect from whatever drug was in his coffee. "I've got a situation here. I need your help."