Tony Hill u Carol Jordan 08 - Cross and Burn
his sergeant. ‘From what you tell me, it’s not looking too clever,’ he said. ‘I’ll have a word with media liaison and see if we can get something in the Sentinel Times tonight. And we’ll have to talk to the lad again.’
‘I doubt he’s got anything else to give.’
Hume nodded. ‘I’m sure you’re right. I heard you’re the whizz kid when it comes to interviews. But we’ve got to cover all the bases. You can sit in as the appropriate adult if you like?’
Paula’s smile was grim. ‘I don’t think DCI Fielding’s going to cut me any slack on that score. My partner is probably your best bet.’ She scribbled down Elinor’s details and handed them to Hume. ‘She’s a doctor at Bradfield Cross.’
‘Thanks. Any developments, I’ll let you know.’
Paula stood up to leave. But Hume hadn’t quite finished. ‘And, Sergeant – leave this to us now. None of your maverick MIT tricks, please? Nobody’s got your back here. Where DCI Fielding’s concerned, you’re on your own.’
23
B ev’s first return to consciousness inside the freezer had been bewildering; the second was excruciating. Every time she took a breath, her ribs hurt, sharp pain like a handful of daggers stabbing her in the chest. Gradually, as she grew more aware, she understood that if she kept her breathing shallow and moved as little as possible, the pain ceased to be all-consuming. But that left room in her nervous system for the other agonies to make themselves felt. There was a dull ache in her lower back. Kidneys, she thought. Her head throbbed and when she moved her jaw, lightning shot from the point of her chin to the top of her skull. A fire burned between her legs, spreading up into her groin. The pinkie on her left hand was hot and swollen. Probably broken. The least of her worries.
She’d been determined to do whatever it took to survive, to make it home to Torin. But it had quickly dawned on her that her captor was as determined to find fault as she was to obey his every whim. She’d fallen into the hands of a man whose only satisfaction came from causing pain. It wasn’t enough just to rape her. He had to make the excuse of her inadequacy to hurt her. He’d subjected her to humiliating sexual acts, all the while maintaining the sick pretence that she was a failing wife. God help any genuine wife who had fallen prey to this monster, Bev thought, shuddering involuntarily, a groan of pain seeping from her bruised lips.
He’d ripped the tape from her mouth while he’d been fucking her in the kitchen. He said he wanted to hear her appreciate his sexual prowess. But if she made any other kind of noise, she’d be sorry. Tasering would be the least of her worries.
Then he unchained her and dragged her upstairs. He fastened her to another metal eye in a room furnished with nothing but a bed covered with a rubber sheet. He punched her hard in the face and forced her on to the bed, tying her by her wrists and ankles so she was spread-eagled across it. He’d left her alone briefly, then returned with a can of shaving foam, a pair of scissors and a plastic razor. ‘If you move, I’ll cut you to ribbons,’ he said, as matter of fact as if he’d been asking for sugar in his tea. Then his hands had been on her, snipping away at her pubic hair, carefully trimming it to the skin. Her flesh crawled at his touch, but she bit her lip and forced herself not to flinch. Next came the shaving foam, then the rasp of the razor against her most tender skin. Bev had never shaved herself; being blonde, she hadn’t even needed a bikini wax for sunshine holidays. The feeling of air against her bare skin was strange. But at least he was careful and he didn’t hurt her. She wondered why, when his sole aim till then had been to punish her.
The respite didn’t last long. This time, he made her beg. Hating herself, she did as she was told, though not convincingly enough to avoid another beating. When he’d finally reached the point where he couldn’t raise an erection, that had been her fault too. Bev refused to remember what had come next. Some things didn’t bear thinking about. She thought she’d passed out in the end.
Now she was back in her box. Her kennel, he’d called it. As if she was an animal. Bev had seen plenty of anger in her life. But she’d never come across such a sustained level of aggression directed at a stranger. Not even rape victims. From what she’d seen in the hospitals where she’d worked,
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