Kiss the Hare's Foot

by Janet Wakley

  “I’d like to go upstairs to see the patient.” Clive distracted the attention of the guard. Silas shot Mel a meaningful glance.

  “He’s okay. Have something to eat first. We’re moving him out this morning. You’ll all be joining him, so get on with it and do as you’re told.” He directed his oration towards Silas, who wilfully avoided exposing any interest to the news. While the three half-heartedly shared out the meagre offerings of breakfast, Hood and Mat entered the cellar and removed one of the mattresses from the floor, carrying it out and up the stairs. Could this really be the last time they would have to endure incarceration in this pit? A strange mixture of emotions flashed across Mel’s mind. Relief, fear, excitement, hope, dread. The confusion of thoughts whirled in her head, dismissing her hunger and transforming the rolls and butter to unappetising cardboard. The purpose of their abduction was about to be played out.

  Mel looked across the table at Silas. Deep furrows creased his forehead, his thick black eyebrows almost meeting in the middle. He appeared remarkably self-controlled, taking responsibility for pouring the three cups of tea from the flask. Clive, meanwhile, sat mesmerized by the activity of the guards who struggled out with the mattress, locking the door once more behind them. Like Mel, he too was finding it difficult to eat. The earlier self-assured confidence had drained away almost as quickly as it had arrived. Nervously, he ground one fist inside the other, until Silas firmly planted a plastic cup and meagre breakfast in front of him. They were all aware that the new day looked likely to decide their precarious future.

  Mel stood up from the table and stretched. Noticing that the camel coat which, rolled up like a sausage had acted as a pillow for the three of them, was now draped onto the dirty floor, she crossed the cellar to gather up the garment.

  Without warning, the lights of the cellar were extinguished. Mel gave out an involuntary squeal as total blackness enveloped her. Not one shaft of light entered the underground prison. Turning back towards where she thought the table was positioned, she could not make out even the faintest outline of the two men. In that moment she was completely disorientated, the intensity of the darkness seeming to touch and stifle her.

  “Silas, Clive, where are you? I can’t see you!” she yelled.

  “Stand still!” snapped Silas. “No doubt the light will come back on in a minute. Just stand still and wait; there’s no need to panic.”

  Mel did as she was told, afraid to move, but the darkness brought with it the claustrophobic memories of the car boot together with the added fears of rats, spiders and of being left alone in this hell. “Help me, please. I can’t see a thing,” she pleaded, almost in tears.

  “I’ll tap the table like this,” said Clive calmly. “Very slowly walk towards the noise.”

  Tentatively, an inch at a time, Mel shuffled towards Clive’s tapping until her fingers once again felt the solid surface of the table top. “Thanks,” she breathed. “I’m okay now.”

  “And how do you think we’re going to get out of this hell-hole if you’re afraid of the dark?” sneered Silas.

  Mel could not answer.

  For many minutes they waited in complete darkness and listened to the absolute silence. Had they all gone? Had Clive died and the gang deserted the building, leaving the three of them to rot in the bowels of the building? Mel shivered in the damp chilly air and wondered whether Clive would object if she edged her way round the table to his side and held on to him. Despite the passage of time, their eyes failed to adjust to the total darkness, offering no points of reference on which to focus.

  “Right then, let’s get out of here.” Silas was the first to take control of the situation. “We’ll hold on to each other and make our way over to where the steps are and the door. Somehow we’ll break the door down or take it off its hinges.”

  “I’ve taken a good look at the door,” said Mel. “We’ll never get out of here. There are huge hinges with rivets and .....”

  “Going to stand here until you die then?” sneered Silas.

  In a shuffling chain-gang they moved slowly towards the place where they believed the steps to be with Silas leading the way. He cursed as he groped at the steps up to the doorway, unable to resist brushing dirt from his hands.

  Suddenly, as abruptly as the light had been switched off, it was once again restored to their meagre accommodation. They blinked in the light and quickly withdrew from the steps, anticipating the imminent arrival of their captors.

  15

  Hood and Mat returned to the cellar and hovered expectantly at the top of the steps. They offered no explanation for the loss of light. When Mat complained that the hostages were wasting too much time, not having eaten the meal provided for them, Silas launched into a rage, demanding to know why the lights had been extinguished and for such a long time.

  “Man walking his dog,” replied Mat smoothly. “Had to turn the generator off. We don’t want any nosey-parkers poking around here. Hurry up and eat. We’re moving out soon.”

  Silas glared at his companions and pushed their half-eaten rolls towards them, insisting in an unspoken gesture, that they ate while they had the chance. Mel understood the signal and obediently consumed the remainder of her share, although she felt it might choke her. The tea tasted strong and bitter. Barely had they finished, when the guards approached the table.

  “Tell me,” began Silas loftily, “What is the nature of your business that you feel you’re unable to take your friend to a hospital?”

  Oh God, not again. Don’t push it! Mel glared at Silas, wishing him to shut up. Such a brazen challenge at this time was crazy. Who cared what illegal business they were caught up in? All they wanted was to get out of there alive. He seemed to be trying to press the ‘self destruct’ button and get them all shot right now.

  Both guards glowered at the surgeon but refused to be tempted to respond to his question. Mat, his hand conspicuously resting upon the butt of his revolver, growled, “C’mon,” and nodded towards the doorway. Silas hesitated, but allowed the question to go unanswered and reluctantly the trio filed passively out of the cellar, each fervently hoping that it would be for the last time.

  As they waited in turn to use the bathroom on the floor above, for the first time voices and movement could be heard coming from other parts of the building. Muffled in the darkness, Mel was unable to decide from which direction the voices and heavy footsteps came, but they seemed to echo all around her. She waited, shivering in the cold passageway, for her turn to use the bathroom.

  Ablutions completed, they were led single file passed the main foyer and grand staircase of the great house. This time the route was different, by-passing another great hall towards the rear of the building and negotiating what appeared to be a number of smaller rooms linked together by short passageways. By the amount of thick dirt beneath their feet, it was apparent that this was not the normal route used by the gang, but it had the desired effect of disorientating the hostages. Torn cobwebs swung with the movement of air and reached out to cling to their hair and faces. Dirt crunched beneath their feet. After leaving the dark muffled corridors, their footsteps rang out on flagstone flooring like an out-of-step army as they walked across another cavernous hall.

  Stepping out of the building into blinding daylight, they each recoiled from the glare and added a facial squint to further distort their sombre expressions. Cold crisp wind slapped against their faces, whipping hair into a frenzied tangle. Hurriedly they were escorted round the side of the building to where Mel recognised the same large black van that she had travelled in the previous evening. The back doors were wide open revealing the mattress from the cellar which had been positioned in the centre of the floor, clearly to await the arrival of Charlie. This was hardly going to be a very comfortable ambulance for the ailing casualty. To one side of the mattress were packed the large yellow sacks and toolboxes containing all the stolen e
quipment. Pointing with the barrel of his revolver, Mat indicated to Silas and Clive to climb into the back of the vehicle, to squat against the near side of the van. Without resistance, they boarded the vehicle.

  Mel waited, surveying her surroundings in the cold light of day. There was not a house or building in sight. This was certainly a perfect situation for their purpose. Parked close to the front of the van, two large limousines stood side by side. The nearest, a black BMW Mel suspected was the car in which she had been brought to the derelict building. The farther vehicle was of similar shape but navy in colour. The profile of the fat man, seated in the front of the second car could easily be seen. Mel stood waiting with hands tucked under her armpits for warmth, under the watchful eye of Hood.

  Quick light footsteps approached from behind. Turning, Mel was surprised to be confronted by a slim, middle-aged woman in a blue denim trouser suit. Spectacles exaggerated early fine lines splaying out from the corners of deep blue eyes, while thin pouting lips gave a severity to her features unbecoming to a woman. She clutched a cardboard box to her chest and after eyeing Mel up and down with what looked like disapproving appraisal, strode on passed towards the navy car.

  Where did she come from? Mel gawped after her. It had never occurred to her that there might be a female accomplice to this gang. Someone must have obtained their food and prepared their flasks, she supposed, so perhaps it had been her? She watched as the box was placed into the boot of the car and she took the rear seat behind the fat man.

  Two guards eventually turned the corner of the building carrying their patient on an old stretcher of wooden poles and canvas. Cocooned amongst the thick bed linen, Charlie’s face was hardly visible. A half empty bag of intravenous fluids was laid across his torso, its tube disappearing beneath the covers. Mel noticed a faint red streak of blood filtering along the tubing towards the bag as gravity allowed blood to back-flow towards the bag now that it was no longer elevated. Instinctively she stepped forward to switch off the clamp. Barely had she taken one step towards the stretcher, than Hood grabbed her fiercely by the arm.

  “No you don’t,” he snapped.

  “I just wanted to turn that off,” wailed Mel as rough thick fingers dug hard into her upper arm.

  “Let her do it,” Danny intervened swiftly, as he escorted the transfer of his father from the building. The grip was released and with a grunt, the big man stepped back. The spontaneity of his reaction to her sudden movement was not lost on Mel, serving as a warning, if further proof were needed, that every movement they made was strictly supervised. More slowly, this time, she stepped forwards and deftly pushed home the small blue clamp on the tubing.

  Charlie was awake, his eyes watery from the glare of the daylight. His waxen face contrasted the straight dark hair, which limply lay across his forehead. For a moment their eyes met. The intensity of his stare was that of a man fearful for his life. There seemed to be almost an unspoken pleading in his expression. Mel felt a sudden compassion for the man. Whatever he had done, it wasn’t right to deny him proper treatment in this way. She wished she could ask him if this was really what he wanted or whether hiding him away had more to do with protecting the anonymity and safety of the gang than ensuring his survival. She withdrew from the side of the stretcher and watched as, supervised by Danny, they carefully loaded the casualty into the back of the van. The two stretcher-bearers also climbed into the back and seated themselves next to Clive and Silas. The doors were slammed shut. If all the gang were now present, it confirmed Mel’s estimation that there were indeed eight members of the gang, excluding Charlie, most of whom made no secret of the fact that they were armed.

  “C’mon, you’re going in this one,” Mat growled and led the way towards the black car. “In the back.” He indicated the rear door and Mel, relieved not to be squashed into the back of the van, submissively climbed into the rear seat. Danny took the driver’s seat with Mat beside him. “Lie down across the seat and stay down. Don’t dare move.”

  As she did so, the navy car led the procession slowly ahead of the van, with their black car following in its tracks. The rich smell of leather filled Mel’s nostrils and she sensed a modicum of trust had been bestowed upon her at not having to wear the awful cloth hood. She was, however, aware that the vehicle doors had all been locked. Perhaps her behaviour in the hospital last night had earned a reprieve, or perhaps they just did not perceive her to be a serious threat? Either way, she didn’t care. At last she was leaving the derelict priory and hoped she would never have to return, knowing that now it held a sinister secret to add to its ecclesiastical history. What had they done with Kurt’s body? Had they buried him or just left him to rot in one of the dark damp rooms? She shuddered at the thoughts that chased round in her head.

  Progress over the rough track was laboured. Lurching and twisting from side to side seemed exaggerated as the vehicle crawled at the rear of the procession, the sub-frame of the car occasionally creaking with the strain. Mel stayed flat on the seat. Painfully, the convoy headed towards its eventual contact with the smooth tarmac of the country lane. As speed increased, Danny and Mat quietly discussed the length of the journey on which they had all embarked.

  “Shouldn’t take more than half an hour,” Mat replied to Danny’s question. “Hopefully, we’ll be back to the old priory late this evening, if not, tomorrow. Depends how it goes, of course, but the place will be empty for the whole weekend, so the Boss won’t want to come back until it’s safe to do so.”

  So they did plan to return! Mel’s heart sank. They would really have to take their chance to escape at the first opportunity. The time had come to start taking risks. As the journey progressed, Mel began to slowly push herself up onto her elbow, gradually rising into a half-sitting position. She had to try and identify where they were. Silas and Clive would stand no chance to look out of the van with the guards at their side. Keeping low, she strained to look out of the rear side window. Fields rolled by, the flat open countryside marked only by isolated farms and barns. The gentle beauty of the rural landscape, in other circumstances, would not have failed to impress. A signpost at a crossroads flashed past. Norwich indicated to the left and Great Yarmouth to the right. So, East Anglia it was then. Mel looked forwards between the shoulders of her two captors and saw the black van some hundred yards ahead.

  Suddenly her heart was in her mouth as she became aware of Danny’s eyes, now cold and hard, glaring back at her through the rear-view mirror. Momentarily transfixed, Mel saw a mixture of mistrust and disappointment showing in Danny’s face as he faced the dilemma of whether to expose her. Mel sank quickly back down onto the seat, anxiously expecting the backlash from her indiscretion and waited. Danny said nothing. Breathing a sigh of relief, Mel dared to allow a splinter of optimism enter her emotions. Mat, she knew, would not have been so forgiving.

  Minutes passed. Slowed by several roundabouts and a set of traffic lights, Mel realised they were entering the outskirts of a large town. The stop, start motion of heavy traffic was now separating their car from the two vehicles ahead. Stationary beside a lorry, Mel wondered whether the driver could see her laid on the back seat, but considered that he would likely assume she was asleep.

  “Damn! Can’t you keep up with the others?” Mat grumbled as the car came to an abrupt stop.

  “I can’t. The barrier’s down. We’ll have to wait.”

  Mel dared again to sneak another quick viewing. A fleeting glimpse revealed the van disappearing from view, obscured by three vehicles ahead of them, as a red and white barrier divided the convoy. Moments later, elevated slowly and silently in front of them a bascule bridge lifted the roadway high into the air, allowing a large sea-going tug to pass through from a dock basin, heading out towards an outer harbour and the open sea.

  Mel shrank down again, sensing the frustration of the two men. Several minutes passed until eventually the bridge was reopened to traffic and
she was aware of rooftops flashing by as the car accelerated up a long hill. Five minutes later, the car slowed and turned sharply onto gravel. She just had to look again. This time, high hedges flanked a sweeping drive. Ahead, a large square house clad with dusty pink pebbledash, boldly confronted the end of the driveway. It looked like a typical child’s drawing, Mel thought, with its row of three sash windows to the upper floor and a matching window on either side of a large central door. Broad white pillars stood on either side of the doorway.

  As they slowed on their approach, a painted free-standing name board identified the premises as belonging to ‘Norman Stanners. Veterinary Surgeon.’ So that was it. They would be expected to carry out a major surgical procedure in a theatre designed for animals! Mel visualised Silas’s reaction and shuddered at the prospect of another temper tantrum.

  Hovering pensively by the corner of the house the man in green cords beckoned to Danny, indicating to him with rapid hand movements, to continue round to the rear of the building and displaying agitation at the impromptu delay by striking his finger onto the watch on his wrist. Quickly Mel sank low into the upholstery once more, praying she had not been seen peering out, and listened while the car was parked up.