It rang for a while. Kevin thought it may switch to an answer service as Joe’s had done but just as he thought it would go that way the line clicked and a muffled, grunting sound could be heard.
‘Hello?’ The voice was deep and tired.
‘Hello.’ Kevin said. ‘Is that Mr Michael Stone?
There was a pause as though the person on the other end wasn’t sure, but the tired voice answered. ‘Yes, who is this?’
‘My name is Kevin Smith Mr Stone. I’m the landlord of the pub your employee, Joe Clarke stayed at.’
‘Joe? What...what’s the problem, is he alright?’ Kevin thought he could hear a faint voice in the background. ‘It’s ok, go to sleep.’ Mike said, away from the phone.
‘I take it he’s no returned to London yet then?’ Kevin asked.
‘No. He’s not been in touch for two days, do you know where he is?’ Mike sounded more awake now, more alert. Kevin thought he had moved out of his bedroom.
‘Well he was headed to a town not far from here but we have had some terrible bad weather on and off up here’ Kevin said, laying on the accent and simplicity in his language, ‘most likely Mr Clarke is having to sit it out there as the roads will be closed for days.’
‘Well he’s not called in and I can’t contact anyone at the town...what’s the damn place called again?’ He asked somewhat sharply.
‘Winter Falls is where I believe he said he was going,’ Kevin answered.
‘Shit, yes. I keep getting it confused that...fucking TV show,’ said Mike. Kevin couldn’t add to this having no clue what he was talking about, but Joe had not returned, this was what mattered. ‘Do you think I should call the police? Technically he’s been missing for over twenty four hours.’ Mike said, concern clear in his voice.
‘Och no, I don’t think so Mr Stone. I’m going to be headed out that way tomorrow, so long as the weather holds off a little. We have a vehicle that can negotiate the roads well enough so I’ll see if I can’t speak to Mr Clarke and make sure that all is well.’
‘Right, that would be good thank you...Mr Smith?’
‘Aye, that’s right. Sorry about the late hour as well Mr Stone, I’m afraid all of the lines have been down and I thought I should call while I had the chance, they can go down again must faster than they can be repaired.’ Kevin knew that the lie was weak but Stone was tired and confused.
‘Oh no that’s fine, thank you for being so considerate Mr. Smith. I’ll make sure that you are compensated for any inconvenience.’
‘Ach, its nae bother,’ said Kevin. ‘I’ll let you away back to bed Mr Stone and I’ll be in touch once I have word from Mr Clarke. Good night’
‘Thanks again, good night.’ said Mike.
Kevin replaced the receiver. ‘TIMMY!’ he shouted across the bar.
Tim Buttress stirred and slowly lifted his head from the table. ‘Aye, aye, I’ll take a pint o’ Steam Kev,’ he said automatically.
‘There’ll be no Steam Tim but I’ll stand yeh a shot of whiskey, you’re going to need it.’ Kevin said fetching a bottle from the back.
‘Oh aye?’ Said Tim as he slowly emerged from his sleep. ‘How’s that then Kev,’
‘I want you to go and fetch Harry, Angus Flint, The Tunny’s, Big George all the lads who know the score, get them here now. Tell em its Falls business.’ Kevin said as he placed a shot glass of whiskey in front of his friend. Tim already looked pale but what little colour was left in his face drained at the mention of the Falls. His eyes widened and he stole a glance toward the door to the bar.
‘Are there folks in the village Kev?’ Tim asked quietly.
‘No, not in the village Tim, this time we are going to them.’ Kevin didn’t wait for Tim’s reply, he turned and walked behind the bar. From underneath, below the spirit glasses and half pint pots he produced a twin-barrelled shotgun and placed it on the counter. He rummaged again and pulled out a box of cartridges. The gun had been his father’s, it was a good weapon but Kevin knew that he was going to have to bring out a good deal more firepower than this.
Tim looked on aghast at the gun. He immediately understood what it meant.
‘Away now Tim.’ Kevin said, ‘Get the lads, and we are going to need Sally firing up.’
Tim blinked and brought his thoughts away from the shotgun. ‘Aye Kev, I’ll do her ma self when I have the lads.’ He downed the whiskey shot and left the bar.
Kevin poured himself another, a double measure with a little extra besides. He didn’t down it quickly, instead he took a few mouthfuls and let each stream down his throat. It tasted good and strong, and reassuring as the warmth of it spread through him. He took a deep breath and looked at his watch again. Time was running on and he had work to do.
Chapter Twelve
Joe stood with the mobile clutched in his hand staring at Billy as though he was some kind of apparition. He had appeared from nowhere and now held Melanie fast with the blade almost cutting into her skin. He had no idea what to do, every situation so far had seemed absurd and awful and not once had he been able to react with resolve or a practical attitude. This was no exception. He stood, waiting for instructions.
‘Why don’t you throw that phone over here Joey.’ Billy said with a deliberate, well-practiced menace. Joe looked at it, he had no choice. He chucked the phone towards Melanie’s feet.
‘Good lad, now move away.’ Billy indicated with his eyes, shifting them away from the bed. Joe took a few slow steps away. Billy suddenly pulled Melanie to the side a little and raised his foot, immediately bringing it down onto the phone. Joe could see the unit was destroyed, snapped across the middle and the screen obliterated.
He had kept a tiny hope alive inside him that Billy didn’t realise he had his own phone in his Jacket pocket but the hope was extinguished.
‘And now for yours Joey, let’s have that fucker.’ Billy said.
Joe looked at Melanie, she was slightly off balance as Billy held her, almost suspended at the neck by his knife. A slip of her footing and she could well cut her own throat. He pulled out his iPhone and tossed it carefully towards Billy.
‘Any chance you couldn’t smash that. It’s on a two year contract.’ Joe said.
Billy’s smile widened and he stamped on the iPhone, twisting his boot into it for good measure. He put his mouth to Melanie’s ear.
‘Perhaps now your Daddy will realise how dangerous it is having this kind of shit in the town.’ He resumed his position, fully covered by Melanie and Joe was at least pleased to see her balance return.
‘Ok, now here’s what’s going to happen.’ Billy moved into the room a little, nudging Melanie forward, the knife didn’t leave her throat.
‘You.’ Billy jabbed the word at Joe, ‘are going to lie face down on that bed and this treacherous cunt.’ He pressed the knife harder against Melanie’s throat and Joe saw it cut into her skin, ‘is going to tie your hands.’
Joe nodded. ‘Ok, I will. Please don’t hurt her.’ Joe said meekly. Billy was enjoying this. Joe could see it painted across his face and the bastard couldn’t drop the smile that seemed to have permanently edged itself onto the corner of his mouth. His dark eyes were bright and full of malice.
‘Hurt her Joey?’ Billy moved the knife back and forth a little, a trickle of blood snaked down the blade and ran across his fist. ‘I’m going to fuck her six ways from Sunday, I’m going to fuck her with every piece of the good Doctors treasure you can see in this room.’
He pushed Melanie forward again which caused the knife to bite a little deeper, she made a quivering ‘Oh!’ sound and tears spilled from her eyes.
‘And when I’m finished Joey, when I’ve torn her cunt up so bad that it’s like a bowl of chopped liver I’m going to open her up and fuck her inside too.’
Joe hadn’t realised that Billy had Melanie restrained in no other way other than having the knife against her throat. It was usually enough for Billy, in fact it was always enough to ensure the total compliance of the city
girls. The whores and strays froze like rabbits in a full beam when his blades sharpened edge bit them. But Melanie wasn’t a city girl.
Joe had thought the tears were Melanie’s fear manifesting itself physically. He felt sick and hollow, gripped with a numbing dread. But the tears were only an unwelcome by-product pain, her skin reacting to the cold, cutting steel, forcing unwanted streams out of her. Melanie was shocked only that she had not heard Billy approach.
He was quiet, as a stealthy as a cat but her ears were sharp and sensitive. It was Joe’s ramblings about her father’s cache of goods that had distracted her.
She coughed a little, nothing too heavy, just a couple of small lurches of her chest to prepare Billy’s attention. As Joe began to turn Melanie coughed again, forcing her throat to press harder against the blade, its cut was hot but she ignored it. Instinctively Billy eased the pressure, not alarmed or suspicious of Melanie’s movement as it was natural to him, allowing her a moment to act.
She swept her arm up in an arc and in almost the same instant spun on the spot. The desired effect of pushing Billy’s clenched fist away happened and she came face to face with him. Surprised, Billy gawped at Melanie as her large brown eyes flared right in front of him. Melanie brought her head back and then butted him on the bridge of his nose. She then brought her knee up sharply into his groin and he dropped heavily to the floor.
Billy let out an animalistic grunt as he fell but his instincts kicked in quickly. He lashed out with his knife hand and got lucky, the blade sank into Melanie’s calf. She screamed out and staggered backwards, her left leg gave way as a searing pain shot through it sending her to the floor next to Billy.
Joe watched the scene unfold with his mouth open, his legs felt as though they were filled with lead. Billy lifted his head up, his face wore a snarl and his teeth were bared as he whipped the knife out of Melanie’s leg and raised it to strike again. The heel of Melanie’s foot smashed into his teeth, pushing the front row clean out of his gums. A second thrust caught his nose and mashed the cartilage. Instantly blood cascaded from it
‘Arrrgh...you cunt!’ Billy screamed. His free hand cupped his broken face and he slammed the knife down hoping to pin Melanie’s leg again. This time Billy was not so lucky, the knife rammed into the wooden floor. Melanie kicked again as she used her elbows tp drag herself backwards but she had already moved a sufficient distance for her flailing foot to strike at empty space.
Joe finally found his guts. He ran across the room, nimbly avoiding Melanie as the struggled back towards the bed, and delivered a full force kick to Billy’s head. He struck with the front of his boot, catching the hapless Billy across his eyes which were already smeared with blood and tears. There was a gargled ‘Ooof!’ as Billy’s head snapped backwards, he then fell face forwards onto the floor.
Joe reached down and tugged the knife free, having to wiggle it to pull it out. He backed away from Billy as he feebly writhed in the doorway.
‘Kill him.’ Melanie screamed at Joe. ‘Stick that knife in his fucking head.’ Joe turned to look at her. She was trying to pull herself up to the bed, her eyes were wild and her hair was matted with sweat against her face, she almost looked insane.
‘What are you waiting for, fucking kill him.’ She screamed at Joe.
Billy continued to squirm, trying to push himself up from the floor. His hands slipped on blood that was pouring from his face. He groaned but tried again, this time managing to raise his head and lift his torso up, supporting himself with one hand on the doorframe. His face was a ruin, both eyes were already swollen and tightly shut and from the bridge of his nose down Billy’s face was a mass of bloodied pulp.
Joe heard Melanie shouting behind him, to kill Billy, to shove the knife into the fucker, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t even bring the thought of killing the man into his mind.
‘Shut the fuck up.’ He shouted back at her, almost at the point of screaming it. ‘I just need to...stop him, uh...restrain him.’ He looked about the room, ‘there must be a rope or cable amongst this shit,’ he thought.
He started to push things off the cabinets, opening drawers. There were more golden coins and Jewellery; he was surprised when he found a set of drawers that contained only clothes. Shirts sealed in packets, multi-packs of socks and underpants. Joe kept looking back at Billy as he searched, he was groping around now, just outside the room, blood still poured from his face.
Melanie had managed to lift herself onto the bed and lay on it taking deep breaths but she seemed to be Ok. Joe moved to a wardrobe and pulled it open. He found a selection of ties dangling from a hanger. He snatched a few of them and went to Billy.
He didn’t want to touch him. There was blood everywhere and Billy was still trying to crawl away, to the stairs. The shock of Melanie’s assault was wearing off and Joe knew that his strength would soon return smashed face or not. He gritted his teeth and placed his foot in the centre of Billy’s back, he then put his weight onto it and Billy was forced back to the floor.
Quickly Joe pulled each of Billy’s arms towards him and fixed the thugs hands at the small of his back by kneeling on them. Billy squealed and shouted undecipherable curses. Joe’s ability with knots was not at scout standard but he could make sure that he bound Billy’s wrists tightly at least.
Satisfied that the hands were secure he took off Billy’s boots and performed the same task with his feet. When he was done Joe stepped back from Billy and debated with himself how secure the ties would be.
‘I’ll bet you will get out those in ten fucking minutes won’t you, you bastard.’ He said, more to himself than Billy. A faint chuckle issued from Billy, muffled as he lay with his face to the floor. ‘Yeah, well fuck you. Let’s see how funny you think it is when the police get here.’
He went to Melanie. The left leg of her denims was soaked with blood from just beneath the knee.
‘Jesus Mel. I don’t know what to do.’ Joe said in a quiet voice.
‘Just get it bound, its deep but I don’t think he hit the bone, went right through the muscle,’ she said weakly. ‘There are bandages and painkillers in the kitchen. The cupboard by the oven, look in there.’
‘Right, Ok. I’ll be straight back.’ He said. He exited the room, checking that his knots still looked solid on Billy’s wrists and feet before dashing down the stairs and through the house in search of the kitchen. The house was large and featured many rooms but Joe pressed on towards the back of the ground floor. His guess proved right and he found the kitchen.
The light switch was once again on the left of the doorway and as he entered and he flicked it on. The kitchen was, like most of the rooms, very large and looked as though it saw very little activity. As he made his way to the oven, a large cast iron range, he noted that there was dust and grime in the corners and on most surfaces.
A row of cupboards above the oven stretched the length of the room. Joe opened the nearest door to the range and was surprised to see only a few ancient looking bottles, a pack of bandages with their own coating of dust and a box of Nurofen that looked new. He snatched the box and put it into his pocket. He took the pack of bandages and polished dust off the wrapping. He was fairly sure that bandages didn’t have a sell by date.
To his surprise a roll of tissue kitchen wipes stood near the sink. That any cleaning product could be found in the town at all seemed odd. He pulled a number of sheets from it and dampened a few under a tap.
He ran back to Melanie. When he reached the top of the stairs he could see that Billy had managed to roll over onto his back. His blood appeared to have stopped flowing but his face had puffed up so much it looked like it had been inflated with a foot pump. As Joe stepped over him he heard Billy mumble something through his shredded lips.
Joe looked over to Melanie, she looked as if she was asleep. ‘The pain and shock knocked her out.’ He thought.
Billy mumbled again. Joe lifted Billy up by his side up a little to check that his hands were still bound. He w
as fully prepared for him to suddenly lash out. He had seen too many Wes Craven movies to fall for that one, but the knots and binding still looked good. He moved to Billy’s head and crouched near to him.
‘I’m getting out of here Billy.’ Joe said quietly, ‘and then I’m coming back with the police, the coastguard and the fucking Salvation Army.’
Billy gave another of his guttural chuckles, his mouth moved a little and fresh blood began to drip from the wounds. ‘Y’ain...’ He gasped a little, ‘y’ain go... enwhere ...ucker, ya canna leave...ere.’
‘Well I guess we will see won’t we.’ Joe said defiantly.
‘See ya ...ucking whore girl...end eh? She’ll cut your...ucking throat...irst chance she gets.’ Billy let out another chuckle, he tried to open one of his eyes but could only manage to flutter the swollen eyelid.
‘I did that.’ Joey thought and found that he had a sense of pride about it.
He stood and went to Melanie, stepping over the remains of the crushed Mobiles. A small pool of blood had spread across the blanket. Although it looked as though it was congealing Joe was unsure whether he should attempt to bind the wound. Melanie stirred as he hovered over her.
Her eyes opened. She looked pale, the boldness of her hair exaggerated the lack of colour in her skin. When she saw Joe standing over her she gasped a little but memory rushed in to bring her back to the scene and she reached up a hand and touched the pack of bandages in Joe’s hand.
‘Fix it up Joe, quickly.’ She said.
Joe nodded and moved his attention to her leg. He pushed up the denim until the cut the knife had made was clear. Melanie closed her eyes and made no sound. The whole of her calf was caked in blood and near the top Joe could see that the wound was capped with blood that had already begun to blacken. Using the damp kitchen towels he cleaned around it as best he could and then lifted her knee a little, allowing him to bandage the leg.
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