Too Little, Too Late

by Marta Tandori

  “I’m not at the hospital. I was released this morning,” Eric told her grimly. “But I can definitely tell you where she isn’t.”

  “What are you talking about?” Her voice became sharp.

  “Brooke and I are at your mother’s house now.” Eric’s voice sounded strange. “Karen wanted me to stop by and pick up the new bathrobe your mother had bought for her.”

  “And?”

  “Her gate’s open and we’re pretty sure that Rina’s car is in the driveway, but there’s no sign of either one of them.”

  “Did you try inside the house?”

  “The front door’s closed but unlocked,” he reported, “and there’s no one inside.”

  “My mother would never leave her front door unlocked or her gate open.” Eve felt panic rising up in her chest. “You know that as well as I do.”

  “I know. The police are here now and so is a young woman called Liz,” Eric continued. “Apparently, your mother had called her and was waiting for Liz to get here. That probably accounts for the open gate.”

  “What would my mother want with Liz?”

  “How should I know?” Eric snapped.

  “I have a feeling something’s happened to Mom.” By now, full-scale panic had set in. “Tell Liz to stay put. I’m on my way.”

  ***

  Leo watched her struggle within her bonds like prey tangled in a spider’s silken web. He saw the terror in her eyes; he had anticipated it. Her eyes followed his every move as he painstakingly checked her bindings above her breasts and below. He gave the rope passed over her shoulders a gentle tug, careful not to let his fingers touch her skin, before meticulously following the rope over her shoulders to the knots at her back. He had tied each of her ankles to its corresponding thigh, and had tied her wrist on each side to the wrist/thigh combination, leaving only the opening between her legs. Leo stared at that opening with such regret. It had taken all of his willpower not to draw the rope over her genitals. However, a rope would have interfered with the events about to unfold and he simply could not let that happen.

  Satisfied that each knot had been executed with precision and that each limb had been properly restrained, Leo stepped back to admire his handiwork. The red rope had been a good choice since it was an excellent foil for the milky white skin, the dusky pink nipples and the thatch of blonde almost entirely obscured by her enormous belly. Rina’s body glistened from her struggles and her swollen nipples beckoned to him. Despite his earlier resolve, Leo tongued them reverently. He traced the bumpy outline of the dusky aureoles, before grazing their peaks with the merest flicker of his tongue. His breath quickened and he found himself becoming aroused by the glorious flesh in front of him until he could stand it no longer. His lips finally latched onto each dusky tip, suckling deeply to fill his mouth with their very essence. Despite this morsel of pleasure he allowed himself, Leo was careful not to lose control.

  Slowly, his tongue slid a lazy, wet path between her breasts, and up along the strong, smooth column of her throat. When he was eye level with her face, he stopped. The eyes which stared back at him grew angry and defiant, something he hadn’t expected, but which gave him a great deal of satisfaction. Her eyes told him she was a fighter who would not give up easily.

  With the forefinger of his right hand, Leo gently traced the shape of Rina’s lips imprisoned underneath the tape covering her mouth. He felt them tremble. Sighing regretfully, he knew there was no way to do this without coming into contact with her flesh. The fingers of his left hand closed over the small crochet needle sitting on the desk and in one swift movement, Leo lunged it between Rina’s legs, deep within her vaginal core. His withdrawal was immediate and Rina’s reaction was just as instantaneous as the life within her reacted with a jarring contortion. Almost immediately, water tinged with blood gushed out of her opening and down her thighs, before collecting in the basin under her feet. Dipping his finger into the bloodied water, Leo branded himself.

  I am my father’s son.

  Straightening up, he came face-to-face with her once again. He saw her mouth form a scream but no sound came out, muffled by the tape.

  “Shhhh,” he told her gently. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Rina’s eyes were defiant no longer. They were muted by terror as her tears spilled in silent rivulets down her cheeks. She ceased to struggle, as if suddenly realizing that her efforts were in vain. Leo tried to mask his disappointment at her unexpected capitulation and got down to work. He had to be ready by the time the first contraction started. He took another measured length of red rope where the cut ends had been melded together to form a loop. He drew the rope through each of the bindings holding her left ankle to her left thigh, and then through the right ankle to her right thigh before looping each end of the rope over either side of her head. The effect spread Rina’s thighs wide, while each end of the rope was snugly looped around her neck. Leo watched closely for a reaction but there was none except for the thin film of sweat forming on her brow.

  “I want you to be strong.” He wiped the sweat off her brow. “This rope is going to serve as an unpleasant reminder for you to keep your posture.” Leo leaned in closely so she could hear him. “Unfortunately, if your will weakens, you’re going to die.”

  Before his words had time to register, Rina’s body stiffened and her face became contorted by pain. When the pain subsided, her thighs spontaneously relaxed, which automatically tightened the two ends of rope looped around her slender neck. Her face turned a mottled shade of red as her air supply was cut off. Choking, Rina quickly remembered her former posture, allowing for the breath of life to feed her air-starved brain once again. Leo was pleased. She was a quick study.

  He glanced at his watch and mentally took note of the time. Taking off his watch, he laid it carefully on the antique table in front of him.

  By the end of her fourth contraction, Rina’s sweat flowed freely, yet she remained in control of her labor. She breathed deeply, rhythmically, in anticipation of the pain that multiplied with each contraction. Leo was aware that the tape covering her mouth was impeding her ability to breathe properly.

  Between her ninth and tenth contractions, her swollen belly shifted and she gave in to the demands of her full bladder.

  By her twentieth contraction, Rina was oblivious to everything else in the room. When not racked by intensifying contractions, every ounce of her strength was used to keep her body in check. Leo suspected it wouldn’t be much longer. He felt the beginnings of another arousal at the thought of his imminent salvation. This time, he allowed himself to succumb.

  ***

  Consciousness came gradually and with it, a blinding headache that hammered away at the back of Kate’s skull. Her mouth was dry and cottony and her shoulders throbbed. When she tried shifting to a more comfortable position, she immediately realized that her hands were tied tightly behind her back, making movement impossible. She felt the sweat trickle down her forehead into her eyes. It was humid as hell and a strangely pervasive pungent odor was making her gag.

  “Ah, I see you’ve joined us at last,” said a man’s voice somewhere to her left.

  Turning towards the sound of his voice, Kate willed her eyes to focus in the dim light, taking in the wooden shelving and cabinets, housing row upon row of wine bottles, many liberally coated in a layer of dust. She was obviously in a wine cellar somewhere. As she turned her head to the left, she recoiled in horror at the sight before her. Naked, with her legs spread wide and convulsed in a violent contraction, a bound and trussed Rina hung from one of the cellar rafters. As if seeing a movie in slow motion, Kate watched as the contraction finally subsided and Rina’s body relaxed, only to jerk back into position the minute the ropes around her neck began suffocating her. From the low-lying bulge of Rina’s stomach, Kate figured she had probably been in labor for quite some time.

  The man went over to Rina to check between her bloodied thighs. Seemingly satisfied, he turned and looked at Kate.


  “The baby’s head should be crowning soon. It won’t be long now,” he declared.

  “She needs a doctor,” Kate told him weakly.

  “Women have been giving birth for centuries without medical intervention,” he told her coldly. “She’ll deliver soon enough.”

  “What do you want with us?” Kate asked.

  “I thought it was high time for a family reunion.”

  She gasped as his words sunk in. “Leo?”

  He seemed pleased that she knew who he was. “I’m glad to see you haven’t forgotten your family.”

  “My father was never family,” she told him bitterly, “and neither are you.”

  He seemed to consider her words carefully. “Irving would quite agree with you,” he told her conversationally. “He did everything he could to distance himself from our little family once he found out Father’s dirty little secret.” He gave her a smile that never reached his eyes. “We had the investigator’s report to thank for that.”

  Suddenly, Rina’s body was claimed by another violent contraction, causing her to thrash about within her bindings. Her ragged breaths filled the room as she fought for air through the pain. Kate sought out Rina’s eyes, hoping to convey reassurance and strength. The other woman didn’t seem to notice.

  “At least take the tape off her mouth so she can breathe, for God’s sake!”

  “I can’t sully her any more than I already have.” He went over to Rina and listened, her ragged breathing reassuring him that all was as it should be. “The tape must stay.”

  “You can’t just let Rina and the baby die!” Kate cried, yanking at her bindings in frustration.

  “Don’t worry, Sister Kate,” he placated her in dulcet tones. “I have no intention of letting the baby die.” Without warning, his raised his hand and viciously slapped Kate across the face. “That baby is going to be our salvation!”

  ***

  “This is all my fault,” wailed Liz, sitting in one of the patio chairs at the back of Kate’s house. “If only we’d gotten here a few minutes earlier, we might have been able to stop what happened!”

  “You don’t know that,” Eve consoled her automatically.

  “But why Kate?”

  “I don’t know.” Eve shrugged helplessly. She looked around her mother’s well-kept yard full of flowers. The tranquility of the backyard was in direct contrast to the chaos out front. She and Liz had come back here to avoid getting in the way of the crime scene unit and detectives and other police personnel who were busy collecting data and evidence and interviewing Eric, Brooke and Otis.

  “Would you like me to get you something to drink?” asked Liz, noting the lines of worry around Eve’s eyes.

  “No, thanks.” Eve gave her a weak smile. “Tell me again why my mother wanted you to come here.”

  Liz thought back to the brief conversation she’d had earlier with Kate. “She told me she thought she’d figured out who my mother was. She wanted me to come here so she could show me something.”

  “Any idea what it was?”

  Liz frowned. “Maybe it had something to do with the necklace.”

  “Necklace?” Eve’s mind immediately focused on that single word. This was the second time in one night someone had made reference to a necklace. “What necklace are you talking about?”

  “The one Laurie had stolen from my mother.” She saw the look of confusion on Eve’s face. “Didn’t you know about the necklace?”

  Eve shook her head. It seemed that her mother had not thought it important enough to inform her of this major development. Then she remembered how busy and unapproachable she’d been lately and swallowed her annoyance.

  “Karen got it back from Laurie and your mother came to my apartment the other day and wanted to know if I’d seen it before,” Liz explained.

  “And had you?”

  Liz nodded. “My mother always carried it with her wherever she went. And then one day, she didn’t have it anymore. I thought she’d lost it.” She glanced at Eve who was visibly shaken. “What’s wrong, Eve?”

  “Earlier tonight, I’d got a call from the Foundation. My godmother’s friend, Sigi, was rambling on about how she’d told her son not to hurt my mother.”

  “What was she talking about?”

  “At that point, I wasn’t even sure if she was lucid.” Eve shrugged her shoulders. “Anyway, when I asked why her son would want to hurt my mother, she mentioned something about Kate knowing about the necklace.”

  “That’s too much of a coincidence, don’t you think?”

  Eve nodded. “She also mentioned something about a Maria.”

  Liz looked at her wide-eyed. “As in my mother?”

  “I’m not sure.” Eve had her suspicions but didn’t want to say anything more to the young woman until she’d spoken with her mother. Picking up her handbag, she searched for her cell phone.

  “Who are you calling?”

  “The Foundation,” Eve answered. “I want to know who Sigi’s son is.” She dialed the number for the Foundation. It rang about eight times before the Foundation’s voicemail clicked in. “Damn!” Eve disconnected the call in frustration.

  CHAPTER 42

  Kate must have hit the back of her head from the force of Leo’s blow and had fallen unconscious. When she came to, she tasted blood in the back of her throat and watched longingly as Leo unscrewed a bottle of water and drank thirstily.

  “Give me some,” Kate demanded.

  He ignored her.

  “Please!” she asked through gritted teeth.

  He brought the bottle over to her.

  “Untie me so I can drink.”

  “I don’t want to touch you,” he told her. Standing above her, he tipped the remaining contents of the bottle over her face.

  She choked as the water went down her nose into her throat. “You’re not going to get away with this,” she sputtered.

  Leo pulled his chair over and sat down. He tilted his head, staring at her intently.

  “What are you looking at?” she asked.

  “I always wondered what you really looked like,” he stated, “and whether she took after you or my father.”

  “Who?” asked Kate.

  “Mother fell in love with her golden curls and big blue eyes, you know,” he told her, laughing without mirth. “She used to call Maria her angel.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Kate’s headache worsened as she tried to make sense of what he was saying.

  “My brother and I thought the whole thing was pretty ironic.”

  “What was?”

  “The fact that Father was a Nazi and Mother was half Jewish.”

  Kate said nothing. There was no point in antagonizing him.

  “Mother would’ve been better off if she had gone on thinking that Father had been nothing more than a drunken womanizer.” He stood up, nearly toppling over his chair. “But no. He was a Nazi killer and a rapist and thanks to your bastard child, it soon infected our whole family.”

  “What are you talking about?” Kate’s world started spinning as the tears unwittingly sprung to her eyes.

  “Who,” he corrected her automatically. “I was talking about Sonja.”

  “How did you know what Sonja looked like?” she whispered.

  “Irving and I both wanted her dead at first.” His eyes were soulless as they stared at her. “But no, Mother wanted that little girl, retarded or not,” he continued to rant, “and what Sigi wanted, Sigi got.”

  “Sigi!” Kate was stunned. “The Sigi at the Foundation is your mother?”

  “She thought money could buy everything.” He stopped pacing and grinned at her like a lunatic. “And it did.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “She bought MacGuyver off and he was only too willing to find a corpse for that explosion while Mother dearest got to keep your precious daughter.”

  “Dr. MacGuyver!” Kate’s brain reeled with shock. “Are you saying that…Sonja didn’t d
ie…that day?”

  “Die?” His eyes grew cold with hate as he made for the doorway. “Sonja was reborn – as my Maria.”

  ***

  “Old Irving certainly knows how to live in style,” Eve commented as Paul’s car entered through the ornate gates before stopping in front of an impressive-looking mansion.

  Paul glanced at Eve in the passenger seat. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

  She nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

  “Keep in mind that Irving doesn’t respond well to threats or coercion so we’re going to have to take things lightly, okay?” He regarded Eve through veiled lids. “Maybe it would be better if you stayed in the car while I talked to him.”

  “No.” Eve’s voice was firm. “I’m going in with you.”

  He sighed as he saw the rigid set of her shoulders. “Let’s go then.” He led the way to the front door and rang the doorbell. A moment later, the door was answered by a young maid.

  “May I help you?” she asked politely. Her English was good, a surprise in L.A., where much of the staffing came from the Mexican and South American immigrant population.

  “I’m Paul Wagner, a business associate of Mr. Johnson’s. I was told by the studio that Mr. Johnson is working from home today.” Paul cleared his throat, laying on the charm. “I’d like to speak with him, if I may.”

  “Please come in,” she told him. “I’ll go tell Mr. Johnson that you’re here.”

  They were left standing in the vast hallway while the maid went to announce the guests. She was back a few minutes later.

  “Mr. Johnson will see you in his study,” she told them. “Please follow me.”

  They followed the maid through the cavernous home, elegantly appointed, no doubt by some famous interior designer, to the study. It was an impressive room paneled in rich mahogany, lined from floor to ceiling with an equally impressive array of richly-bound books, many of them first editions. Eve was willing to bet the books had probably never been read.