Taken (28 page)

‘You said it was nothing.’

‘I know I did, I know, but what was I going to say? I was trying to sort it; I wasn’t happy with it either. I put my feelers out and spoke to Lola …’

‘Lola? What’s she got to do with it? Jesus, please don’t tell me she’s involved too? Not Lola.’

‘No, not exactly. Oscar was forcing her to feed the girls heroin to get them hooked; she didn’t want to do it but she had no choice: she was terrified. I went round to talk to her to get some information and …’

‘Oh god, it’s because of you she’s in hospital.’

Vaughn looked at Casey harshly.

‘No, not because of me, Casey, because of Oscar. He must’ve found out she was talking and went round to put a stop to it.’

‘Do Alfie or Janine know any of this?’

‘I haven’t told them about it, and I haven’t told them about you.’

‘I think you should; you have to. God what a mess. If only she’d stayed with me …’

Casey trailed off and rubbed her head, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of panic.

‘You know I can’t take this in; I have to go.’

Casey turned to walk down the street and she heard Vaughn shout behind her, but she didn’t turn round; she needed to think.

The rain was beating down heavily on the window and Casey put her pillow over her head, but no matter how tight she held it the problem wasn’t going to go away. All she could think about was her beautiful daughter.

Sitting up, Casey knew it was pointless trying to sleep; the tossing and turning was just waking her up more. She picked up her mobile, which was on the floor next to her, and pressed the quick dial button. It went straight to voicemail and Casey sighed, leaving no message. She got up wearily and pulled on her clothes.

Back at his house near Virginia Water in Surrey, Vaughn Sadler couldn’t sleep either. In the end, he’d gone into his hothouse to prune some of his roses, in the hope it’d have the calming effect he needed.

Oscar had told him to wait and do nothing until he called again, but he wasn’t going to allow him to dictate what was going to happen; he needed to do something because Emmie’s life depended on it, and he doubted if he sat back and waited that Emmie would be alive to see her next birthday.

He couldn’t do this on his own, and sadly when he sat down and thought about it there were few people he could trust. He needed to keep this as quiet as possible and sometimes gangland London was like a women’s beauty salon; full of whispering and gossip.

Had he been surprised Casey had walked away? He wasn’t entirely sure. She’d reacted badly that he’d been looking into her background, but it must’ve been a shock to her to hear about Emmie.

When he’d seen her walking into the bar, he’d wanted her. But when he thought of her the image of Alfie’s hands all over her body came into his mind and was like a bucket of cold water being poured all over him.

One thing she’d been right about though was the need to tell Janine about Oscar, Emmie and Casey. He wasn’t sure about telling Alfie: he knew what it was like to be locked up and unable to do anything about things which were happening on the outside; it was a one-way ticket to frustration which could only lead to madness. Being locked up twenty-four seven was hard enough at the best of times, let alone when there were issues you needed to deal with beyond your control.

He thought he’d leave speaking to Janine till morning; she needed to get as much sleep as she possibly could because after what he was going to tell her, he doubted she’d even be able to close her eyes. He’d drive down to see her at first light: face to face would be better, especially as he’d a strong suspicion how she was going to react.

Vaughn walked through the hothouse, examining the roses he’d neglected lately. He heard Sam start barking again in the background and at first he chose to ignore it, picking wilted leaves and buds off the pale pink roses. After a few minutes of listening to the yowling, he marched through to the main house to see what all the fuss was about. As he entered his study, where Sam was running round in circles, he heard the front gate buzzer go and on the monitor he saw Casey looking wet and dishevelled.

‘Hang on a sec, I’ll drive up and get you.’

Vaughn grabbed some keys and rushed out to the grey Aston Martin parked in his vast driveway. It took less than a couple of minutes for him to get to the large black steel gates, but he didn’t want Casey to have to walk to the house in the pouring rain.

‘Jesus girl, you don’t do things by half do you? Get in, why didn’t you call me?’

Vaughn guessed from the look she gave him that she’d tried but had just been unable to get through. He smiled apologetically as he pulled up at the house.

‘Sorry, signal’s not always great here when there’s a storm on.’

Inside the warmth of the large reception room, Vaughn lit the bespoke fireplace, more for effect than for anything else. He hadn’t asked what she was doing coming to see him in the middle of the night but he hoped she’d come to help.

Turning to Casey, he wondered if he should offer her a drink, but he hesitated. He hated seeing her drink. He’d never just seen her stop at one, and he hated what she turned into when she was drunk.

‘Do you want me to make you a cup of tea or coffee? I’ve no idea how to use the coffee maker in the kitchen, but I can make you an instant one.’

‘Something stronger would be nice; and if you’ve got some dry clothes I could put on that would be great.’

Vaughn gave a tight smile as he poured a small measure of brandy into the glass before going to get something dry for her.

Casey came back from the bathroom in the cream Dolce and Gabbana tracksuit Vaughn had given her, having taken off her wet clothes. It swamped her frame but she was grateful to be dry. She sat down on the chair and looked at him intently.

‘I need to know everything. I can’t ask Josh to help if I don’t fully know what’s going on. Josh is somebody I can trust with my life and I want him to know all the facts so we don’t put him in danger.’

They held each other’s gaze for a moment before Vaughn took a deep breath and started to tell Casey about the goings-on in the club, about the girls and about Oscar and Alfie.

A couple of hours later, they both felt exhausted.

‘I’m going to see Janine tomorrow, tell her about it, or as much as she needs to know; maybe it’d be good if you came. Get some sleep here and we can go together.’

‘Okay; and I’ll call Josh.’

She stood up and followed Vaughn up the stairs to a different bedroom from the one she stayed in before. At the door they stood inches away from each other, and after a moment, Casey leant in to kiss Vaughn; but he pushed her away. He could see the hurt in her eyes, but as much as he wanted to make love to her he couldn’t; not after she’d spent the night with his friend. He gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head, and turned and walked away.

Emmie was terrified as the gold half-mask was placed over her face and she, along with the other women, was forced to undress in full view of Oscar, the driver and the man who’d come to greet them in the red robe.

As Emmie stood in the middle of the stone-floored room trying to cover her naked body with her hands, she tried to think of her cat, of her friends, of the day her dad had taken them to the funfair in Southend and her mum had got stuck on one of the rides; anything other than the horror of her reality.

She was handed a white cloak by Oscar and put it on quickly, clutching hold of the front to keep it closed, hoping not to expose herself any more than necessary. She watched as Oscar put on his mask and she shivered, partly with the cold and partly from Oscar’s cold eyes staring at her through the slits of the mask he wore.

‘This way.’

Oscar pushed the women forward and they followed through to a long darkened corridor with tall gothic narrow windows. They walked barefoot along the cold stone passageway until they came to a stop at a set of heavy wooden doors and waited in silence for the man to unlock it. Unnoticed in the dark, Kaltrina squeezed Emmie’s hand, silently trying to give her some courage.

Through the door was a huge ballroom full of about two hundred people wearing different Venetian masks: silver masks with halos of feathers; complex baroque-style ones; gold full-faced masks decorated in multicoloured crystals, and one which filled Emmie with panic.

She’d learned about the mask in history; it was called the Medico Della Peste – the plague doctor; and chillingly it was associated with death. It was brilliant white with a long beak of the same colour, and round eyeholes circled with crystal discs which created a shimmering effect, but for all its detailed craftwork the mask was full of menace: and whoever was wearing it, was staring directly at her.

Although all the other masks were different, Emmie noticed the people in the room were all dressed in the same floor-length red velvet robes. On any other occasion, she would’ve marvelled at the luxury of the room and the dazzling masks, but as she stood there in the moment, she felt she was surrounded by evil.

The room was ornately decorated. Purple ornaments and tapestries adorned the walls along with black velvet drapes falling into heavy folds on the wooden floor. Candles and candelabras illuminated the room, the shadows dancing along the walls creating a playground of mystery and decadence.

At the far end of the room, there was a raised platform and almost as soon as they’d entered, a man wearing a full black mask stood on the stage and rang a bell.

‘Good people, the moment has come. The witching hour has begun.’

His voice sounded like an invocation, and after a moment he raised his hands to the ceiling and let out a loud cry. Emmie sensed her body jerk, wanting to bolt, but her feet were incapable of moving and she felt the reassurance of Kaltrina’s hand holding hers tight. The party guests stood to the sides, parting the room and leaving only the young women standing huddled together in the middle.

Emmie’s legs shook and she struggled to see clearly as her eyes filled with tears behind the mask. One of the men in the room, wearing a silver mask with black feathers and wearing a grey trouser suit under his robe, walked slowly towards them and took hold of Ariana. She cried out, sinking to the floor in panic but she was dragged away by two other men, screaming.

One by one, the women were led away in different directions, followed by a small group of men and women, until it was only Emmie left standing alone in the middle of the room. She looked to her right and she saw the masked figure of Oscar, whispering to the plague doctor. After nodding his head, he came towards her.

Behind the eyeholes of the white mask, Emmie could just make out the man’s eyes, dark and intense. He pulled her and she stood firmly, refusing to go. He stood for a second, looking at Emmie through the slits of the mask before grabbing hold of her head. The man didn’t talk as he led her out of the ballroom.

Emmie was crying loudly, nearly on the verge of hysteria as she was pulled down a long corridor with doors on either side, passing a room which had loud screams coming from within. Unlike the others, nobody followed them, and Emmie was alone with the man.

‘Please, let me go, please. I’m begging you.’

The man ignored her as they stood outside a room at the end of the corridor. When he opened it, Emmie leapt backwards into the man who gave her a hard shove forward. Her eyes opened wide in horror as she saw a large oak four-poster bed covered in red satin. On top of it lay an array of bondage gear. Handcuffs, hooks, whips and metal studded objects were neatly placed on top of the cover and Emmie let out a scream as the wooden door closed behind her, muffling out the sound of her cries.

Emmie’s body was shaking so hard that for one moment she thought she’d wet herself from fear. The lights were dim and flickered out a red eerie glow, casting long shadows on the walls.

She stood in the middle of the room trying to get her eyes to adjust to the darkness. The sudden silence of being on her own only added to Emmie’s fear; not knowing what was going to happen, yet waiting for the unimaginable to begin.

As Emmie’s eyes started to become accustomed to the light, her body jolted back in panic as she realised she wasn’t alone. She realised the dark moving shadow in the corner wasn’t a shadow; someone was sitting there, watching her.

She screamed and instinctively backed away, but there was nowhere to go as the shadowy outline of the person stepped towards her into the dimmed light.

‘Sshh my darling, sshh.’

He reached out a hand and stroked Emmie’s bare arm, making her recoil, but he grabbed her hard, drawing her closer to him as her body shook in cold terror. His voice was muffled but excited as he spoke through the tawdry mask.

‘I’m not going to hurt you. Daddy won’t hurt you.’

Emmie started to scream hysterically.

‘You’re not my dad, I want to go home.’

The slap across her face took her off her feet, sending her sprawling across the floor.

‘Now then that won’t do; Daddy doesn’t like naughty girls. Bad things happen to bad girls.’

He bent down and stroked her back and Emmie once more struggled to get away in the confines of the locked room.

‘Where are you going? There’s nowhere to run. Don’t make Daddy cross now, baby girl.’

He grabbed Emmie and pulled her tight against his body, and she immediately could feel his erection; she squirmed but even though the man only came up to her height, he was too strong for her, and overwhelmed with dread and hopelessness, Emmie began to cry; deep shameful sobs.

‘Hey now, Daddy’s not cross any more.’

The stranger began to kiss Emmie’s face but stopped at her lips, instead tracing her mouth with his fat pudgy fingers.

‘Lie down.’

He raised his voice when he said it and Emmie heard the threatening tone. Trembling she got onto to the bed, keeping her back towards him.

‘Turn over.’

Slowly, Emmie turned onto her back and lay exposed and naked as the man took his clothes off and sat on the bed next to her.

‘Please don’t, please.’

Emmie turned her head to the side as she begged her masked tormentor. She felt his hands on her again; stroking her body, making her nauseous with every caress. She heard his heavy breathing and felt his hot breath through his mask as he leaned into her closer, and then she heard him start to hum before the sound turned into a gruff song which she’d sung at school when she was younger. With horror, she recognised the song. It was ‘The Teddy Bears’
Picnic’.