The Knapthorne Conspiracy

by Malcolm Ballard

  The cat was so close that the piercing sound of its high-pitched screech nearly gave both of them a heart attack and they parted instantly, gasping for breath, the heat of their passion immediately cooled by the devastating intrusion. Bella was both grateful and relieved as she fought to calm herself down and all she wanted to do was burst into laughter but the look on Kyle’s face stopped her. A smouldering expression of suppressed anger and violence contorted his handsome features and sent a shiver down Bella’s spine as he glared at the cat. It stood on the table, less than two yards away, a sculpture in bristling hatred, back arched, fangs bared and screeching still. Without a word Kyle turned on his heel and walked to the back door which led to the garden. Gripping the handle he pulled it, viciously, only to find the door locked, adding to his frustration. A swift turn of the key, the door was open and he was gone, leaving Bella in a state of shock. Quickly she went to the open door and found him just outside, taking in deep breaths of fresh air.

  “Kyle, what on earth’s the matter?” He seemed to be having trouble getting air into his lungs and didn’t answer immediately. The truth was he was fighting to harness his anger and prevent a violent outburst that would dash any hopes of a relationship between them. A mixture of anxiety and confusion showed on her face as she watched him, uncertain of what to do.

  “That bloody cat of yours,” he said at last, massaging the centre of his chest as his breathing eased. His pulse was still racing, the blood pounding in his ears, and it felt like he was on a cliff edge. One slight push and he’d be over. Kyle knew he had to get away. Meanwhile, Bella leapt to the defence of Ubix

  “Well, I’m sorry! I haven’t trained it to defend my virtue. I was enjoying myself too, you know! Anyway, are you ok? When I saw the look on your face, I thought you were going kill Ubix, or me.”

  “Look, I think I’d better go. You’ve got it all wrong.” He started to walk towards the side of the cottage where the path led round to the front and Bella moved to grab his arm.

  “How have I got it wrong, then Kyle? Tell me. I know what I saw!” He was teetering on the brink, feeling like he wanted to explode and bit down hard on his his lip, the pain eclipsing everything else as he tasted blood. His face was turned away from her and she had a job to hear him when he spoke.

  “I’ve got a respiratory problem, like asthma, but worse. I can control it with medication but sudden shock, or stress, causes a type of arrhythmia and I nearly stop breathing.” As he turned to look at her she could see the flush was still in his cheeks, the pain or whatever it might be, evident in his eyes. She put a hand to his cheek.

  “Oh, Kyle! Why didn’t you tell me before? You scared me half to death back there.” Inwardly, he gave a sigh of relief but didn’t trust himself to remain in her company. Any further questioning right now might expose the lie.

  “Look, I think it’s best if I just take off now. I’ll be fine in a while honest.” As he began walking towards his vehicle Bella attached herself to one arm with both hands and walked beside him, all sympathy.

  “Well, we’ve both seen another side of one another, today, haven’t we? Are you game to give it another try?” Kyle stopped in his tracks and looked at her.

  “How do you mean?”

  “I’m inviting you back, if you’re interested.” Her eyes were bright now, showing no signs of her earlier distress, as she held his gaze. “And maybe you’d like to stay over.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  It was after midnight and Ben sat up in bed, propped against the plump, down-filled pillows, staring forlornly at the bright fingernail of moon that hung in the sky. Sleep would be a recalcitrant stranger tonight, he knew, even though he felt worn out and he’d left the curtains open in the way he had so often as a young child. Total darkness had scared him then, with its implications of evil spirits and dire deeds. Now he usually welcomed its narcotic embrace willingly each night as a palliative to the stresses and rigours of adulthood. This would, Ben thought, have to rank as one of the worst days of his life. He surveyed the unfamilar surroundings of the guest bedroom as the events of the evening hung over him like the gleaming, razor-sharp blade of the guillotine. Examples of Tina’s excesses were all around him, from the hand-made Italian wallpaper to the antique dressing table, yet it wasn’t her continuing profligacy that had brought matters to a head between them. Foresight had prompted Ben to bring a bottle of malt whisky up with him and he poured himself a second stiff drink knowing that he’d pay for it later on. As a boy, the moon had always had a calming, soporific effect on him. It was his nocturnal guardian, warding off the illusory demons of the night and coaxing him to sleep. Right now he was desperately hoping that it would still work but he’d brought the alcohol along just in case. As he contemplated the night sky, he couldn’t help but wonder how his world had begun to fall apart so dramatically in such a short space of time.

  The day had started out holding some promise, with the prospect of meeting his lover, Barbara Richmond, later in the afternoon. The firm’s Financial Controller was on a week’s leave, staying with a girl friend at her flat in Tottenham, north of the city. As the friend would be staying at her partner’s that night, Barbara had rung to invite Ben over. Sex was like a drug to him especially the kind of sex that Barbara offered and the addiction distorted his ability to either think clearly or act logically. Common sense told him that he should end the relationship as soon as possible but her involvement in his fraudulent activities made that very difficult. Also he was very dependent on the additional income, which complicated things even further. When weighed against the powerful aphrodisiac of Barbara’s libido Ben decided to maintain the status quo. That being the case he had decided to bring the car in, as it was only a matter of driving across to Woodford from there, later, to get him back on his route home. When he had arrived at the Tottenham address after parking the car a couple of streets away, he had discovered the flat was in a large four-storey house which had been completely refurbished. An intercom system in the porch was part of the state of the art security system and he pressed the buzzer next to the name that Barbara had supplied him with. When he got up to the third-floor flat he was surprised to find the door open slightly. After hesitating he gave it a gentle push and called out her name.

  “Barbara? You there?” Immediately her voice answered him.

  “Hi, honey, I’m in the bedroom. Get yourself into the bathroom, down the hall. Take your clothes off and get in.”

  “What?”

  “You heard. I’ll be there in a minute.” Used to her games by now, he followed the simple instructions. A few minutes later he lay back naked in the satin smooth water of the big, triangular bath, sipping the champagne she’d provided.

  “Are you in?” Barbara’s voice came from beyond the door.

  “I certainly am. Ready and waiting.” The door swung open to reveal the firm’s Financial Controller with her arm round the waist of a tall, slim, ebony-coloured girl in her early 20’s. Both of them were naked, their bodies moist with perspiration. It was obvious they hadn’t been idle while waiting for him to arrive.

  “Ben, meet Mercedes,” Barbara said, by way of introduction. “She’s from St. Lucia and she’s going to join us.”

  The next ninety minutes were among the most incredible that Ben had experienced in his full and varied career of sexual exploits. Barbara was in control, as usual, pulling Mercedes to the floor before they were barely in the room and making love to her while Ben watched in a state of highly-aroused fascination, hardly able to believe what was going on before his eyes. The older woman was insatiable but Mercedes had the supple body of an athlete and was more than a match for her. When he had first seen Barbara, like many others in the firm, Ben had had the passing notion that perhaps she might have been gay. It had only taken their first sexual encounter to prove otherwise, as far as he was concerned, but he had never considered for a moment that she might have been bi-sexual. As he watched them, it became obvious that the two women were accompl
ished, vigorous lovers who knew each other well and he was stunned, and in no small way concerned, to realise how little he really knew about his accomplice. The nagging hang-nail of doubt settled on the far horizon of his consciousness as Barbara knelt back on her heels, panting heavily, and beckoned him to join them, a lascivious grin on her glistening lips. She then saw to it that, one by one, every fantasy he had ever had was acted out, with him either participating or as a spectator. In one of the few moments when he was capable of rational thought, it occurred to him that this was the stuff of adult movies, totally unrelated to the everyday activities of normal human beings. Yet here he was, with a colleague from work, gorging himself from an unrestricted sexual menu. Spent and exhausted, the three of them had ended up in the bath casually drinking champagne, discussing their orgy as though it were as commonplace as a change in the weather. He got the impression that Mercedes had received a signal from Barbara indicating it was time she left them and the dull embers of his doubt were fanned into life. Incredibly he felt himself stir watching the sinuous body of the young girl as she stepped gracefully from the bath. It was unbelievable, he reflected, that he could still lust after her given all that he had just been through. Whereas the spirit might have been willing though, he had to admit that the body was far too sore and tired to respond. Barbara never missed a thing and grinned at his reaction.

  “Still game for more, eh?” Ben affected a pained expression.

  “Not for at least a week by the feel of things. Anyway I really should get a move on. I told you I couldn’t stay for too long.” It seemed as though she hadn’t been listening.

  “Well I’m game for more.” Weariness prevented him from realising that she wasn’t talking about sex. There wasn’t a trace of excitement or humour in her voice. It was a plain statement of fact.

  “You’re joking!” He made to get up knowing that he had to get away.

  “Stay where you are, Ben. We’re not finished yet!” The violence of her command shocked him and there was a look of pure evil on her face as alarm bells started to ring in his head.

  “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” Fear and anger drove him now, fuelled by the sudden feeling that he didn’t know this woman at all, or what she was capable of.

  “I’m talking to you, Ben Hollingsworth. The man who’s ripped off his firm to the tune of nearly half a million pounds.” Sharp fingers of pain clawed at his chest and his blood felt as though it had turned to ice. Any thoughts he might have had of leaving were dismissed by her outburst. Rendered speechless, momentarily, he eventually found his voice but it held no conviction, sounding like the whining plea of a scolded child.

  “But you’re as guilty as I am!” She laughed. It was a harsh, cackling sound that made him squirm.

  “Guilty of what, Ben? Carrying out the orders of my lover, a senior partner in the firm, with whom I was besotted and who had threatened to leave me if I didn’t agree to do what he asked. I’ve only ever received money from you, Ben. Believe me, nobody can trace any financial gain on my part.” Perspiration ran into his eyes causing him to blink rapidly and his heart was beating fit to burst. After all the frantic exercise earlier, exhausting both mind and body, stress was affecting him very badly and he willed himself to try and think clearly.

  “So what is it you want? I presume that’s what this is leading to?” There was an air of quiet resignation to his voice as he forced himself to try and be calm.

  “A hundred thousand will do nicely, for now. As a down payment.” The words echoed in his brain and he had a feeling of extreme light-headedness as if he were about to faint. Thoughts and images raced through his brain, a stunned reaction to her demand. His career, his marriage, his home. Everything was in the firing line were his crime to be exposed. Their crime, he thought, sarcastically.

  “Blackmail.” The word sounded strange to him, even as he said it.

  “I look at it more as compensation.” She climbed out of the bath and reached for a towel. “For my silence,” she added. Ben hung his head, suddenly feeling very old and bone weary. Why hadn’t he seen this coming? Like a house of cards the elements of his life were delicately balanced and could come crashing down round his ears if his criminal activities were exposed. She had the nerve to get away with it but he would, he knew, be ruined.

  “You don’t think for one moment that I can lay my hands on that amount of cash?”

  “I don’t care how you get it, quite frankly. But you will.” Having dried herself, she discarded the towel and began to rub moisturiser into her stomach and breasts. To his horror Ben found himself getting excited again.

  “The thought of so much money turn you on, eh, Ben?” Deliberately, Barbara gently massaged the smooth, creamy lotion into the soft flesh of her inner thighs, not taking her eyes off him.

  “You bitch!” he exploded, standing up quickly. “How long have you been planning this?” She smiled enticingly as her fingers inched a little higher.

  “Don’t blame me, darling!” Her voice was silky smooth. “You started it. You and your taking ways. I’m just following your example.” Closing her eyes she began to sway to a gentle inner rhythm.

  “You’re disgusting, do you know that?” he snarled, and her eyes flew open, gleaming wickedly.

  “I’m sure that’s just what your wife would think about you if she found about tonight’s little activities!” All the pigeons were coming home to roost now and his despair seem to shrink him as he stood before her. In a soothing voice, much as a mother would speak to a naughty child, she addressed him.”

  “Why don’t you get yourself dressed Ben then come into the lounge. I’ve got something for you, before you go.”

  After she had gone from the room, he was left with an overwhelming sense of guilt and self-pity and dressed himself in a trance-like state. Exhausted by the evening’s sexual gymnastics, the spectre of blackmail was too much to cope with and it was far simpler to cloak himself in remorse as some sort of protection.. For the first time, and solely because of Barbara’s threat, the execrable nature of his infidelities and the plundering of the firm’s accounts weighed heavily upon him. With leaden steps he entered the lounge, consoling himself with the fact that his life had hit rock bottom. At least things couldn’t get any worse.

  “Ah, Ben, there you are!” The soothing voice again. She patted the sofa. “Come here and sit next to me.” Robot-like he did as he was told. Barbara pressed the remote control she was holding and the television fizzed into life, revealing a screen which showed a clear blue background. Ben frowned, turning towards her but she put a finger to her lips, motioning him to silence.

  “Just watch!” Obeying instructions once more he directed his attention to the screen as a brief spell of interference replaced the background colour and, finally a picture became clear. Barbara wasn’t paying attention to the screen but studied Ben’s face instead as he watched a replay of earlier events. Himself in the bath then the arrival of the two women in the doorway. A thrill ran through her as she saw him go pale, shocked at the realisation that the evening’s frolics had been captured on camera.

  “And I didn’t have to do a thing,” she confessed, patting his knee and obviously pleased with herself. “It’s all part of the security system. All I had to do was to make sure that we kept in range of the camera.” Arranging her sweetest smile for him, she added, “So you are going to be a good boy and do as you’re told, I take it?” Without warning Ben got up from the sofa. Whatever else might happen to him in the future, all he knew now was that he had an overpowering urge to throw up.

  He had rushed from the apartment after being sick without confronting Barbara again and found himself in tears as he tried to remember where he had parked the car. As he walked the streets he was talking to himself, cursing himself, his stupidity and Barbara Richmond, in a loud voice. Somehow he managed to stumble on the street where he had left the BMW anxious now to put as much distance between that woman and himself. With relief he spotted th
e car and hurried towards it but something caught his eye. Was it a trick of the light, he wondered, brushing tears away with the back of his hand as he got closer. Anger and disbelief flooded through him as he saw the ravaged paintwork. It looked like someone had thrown acid over the bonnet and roof. His world came to a complete standstill and, in that fleeting moment, he thought he might as well go and throw himself under a bus. Then the ability to think deserted him completely and he could only stand and stare helplessly at the car. The wanton desecration of mindless vandalism was the last straw and he eventually shuffled towards the vehicle wanting to get home, get to bed and shut the world out. Or maybe get drunk. How he had made it home in his dazed and exhausted state he couldn’t remember. But neither could he remember ever having felt so pleased to be back. A quick glance at the car’s clock told him that it was approaching 10.30pm. With luck, Tina would be in bed and he could have a couple of glasses of scotch before going up. With the way things had been going that evening he should have known better. She was in the kitchen, fussing around, when he walked in and immediately he sensed that the atmosphere was not one of harmonious domestic bliss and his heart gave a lurch.