Buying the Virgin

Chapter 127: The Girl Who Was Hunted - Chapter Forty-Three



Chapter 127: The Girl Who Was Hunted - Chapter Forty-Three

MICHAEL

Will says, “Charlotte’s father, Frank Conners, was murdered, either by, or at the instruction of,

Lawrence Klempner.”

There is stunned silence, then, “Is it known why?” asks James. “He was involved with their trafficking

trade?”

“We don’t know the motive. Perhaps that was it. What is also unknown, as yet, is how Charlotte herself,

or as she then was, Jennifer Conners, came to be in Blessingmoors at all….”

“That file you had on her, said she was placed there as a ward of the court; that her mother was

unfit….” I point out.

“Yes, that’s so.” agrees Will. “However, here we have a discrepancy because what has also emerged,

is that Michelle Conners was not, in fact, deemed unfit as a carer, as the mother of a young baby.

When we cross-referenced to the court records, there is nothing there to support the content of the

Blessingmoors file….”

I am about to interrupt again, but Will raises a finger, silencing me. “And, what we now know is that in

fact, Michelle Conners was, at that time, given a new identity for her own protection. Her child should

have been with her at that point.”

“So, Charlotte’s mother is alive? She has a family?” demands James.

“We don’t know. We can’t find her. We have had officers visit her last known address, but that is from

over twenty years ago. She’s dropped off our radar.” Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

He is about to say more when his phone rings. He glances at the scene. “Excuse me a moment. I need

to take this call.”

He listens in silence then, “Yes? Good… and… Yes? I’m on my way.” He taps off the mobile. “The

attacker they dragged from the building has woken up. He wants to plea-bargain. He’s ready to talk.”

“Does he know where Beth and Charlotte have been taken?”

“I’ll let you know as soon as I do.”

*****

Ill at ease, barely speaking, we wait. And we wait.

James paces the room. Richard sits, drumming the tabletop with his fingers. I fight down the nausea

that rises every time I think about what Will has told us.

And Charlotte is in the hands of these people.

Richard’s phone rings. “Yes?” He covers the set for a moment. “It’s Will. Yes? Yes…. What!” He jots

something down. “We’re on our way. How long before you can get there? Is that with back-up? Right!”

He clicks off. “Come on. We’re going. We know where they were taken, and it’s not far away. Can you

believe it? We’re almost on top of them. It’s an old abandoned farm. I’ll tell you on the way.”

*****

CHARLOTTE

I try to alternate between sitting and resting, and standing and walking about. When my opportunity

comes, I need to be able to go.

Beth doesn’t look so good. She’s not handling this well. Will I be able to take her with me again? I’m not

sure. How can I judge, when I have no idea where we are, and what I will find outside?

There is a click of keys and the door opens, and a man brandishing a gun enters, followed by

Klempner. He smiles brightly at us.

“Good evening ladies. I just thought I’d bring you up to date on the news. My colleague, Mr Corby, will

be arriving in due course, and we’ll be starting our entertainments then….”

Beth cowers in the corner, where she sits on the floor, leaning against the wall, legs outstretched.

Klempner stands over her, inserts first one foot between her ankles, and then the other. He does no

more, but his implication is obvious as he pushes her legs apart.

Staring down at her, he says, “Corby wanted to fuck Jennifer first; show her how annoyed he is with

her. But that’s my privilege. He can have you instead. The pair of you look enough alike that he should

be happy with that. When he’s finished, the others can take turns with you… Or they might not take

turns. That’s up to them.”

He waits, enjoying her fear. “Ever done that? Had a man at every hole? I know she has.” He tosses his

head across to me.

Beth says nothing, tears rolling down her cheeks, her breathing short and rapid.

He turns to me. “I’m having you first. Get some pay-off eh? Before I let the others at you? How many

can you handle at once d’you reckon? We’ll find out, shall we?”

“What payoff? What have ever done to you?”

He shows his teeth….

Is that a smile?

…. But he doesn’t reply, just leaves the room, and his goon follows. The door closes behind him,

followed by the rattle of keys in the lock and the slam of bolts.

The exit is locked. The two small windows barred. The only way out of this room is to be taken out.

I give it a while, but I can’t wait too long.

How long have we got? Before Corby gets here?

I bang on the door. “Hey, I need the bathroom.”

After a minute or so, and the sound of a struggle with lock and bolts, the door bangs open again, and

one of Klempner’s hoods sticks his head in the room. “You only just went.”

“That was hours ago, and…. and I’m nervous. Please, I’ve gotta use the bathroom.”

He rocks his head in an indecisive, “Should I…. Shouldn’t I….” kind of way, then, gun trained on me,

points me out of the room into a hallway, and at the next door. “In there. You’ve got two minutes.”

In the five or ten seconds I have, between exited the one room and entering the next, I get a quick

glance around the hall; several doorways lead off, and one of them looks like an outer door.

The window is not barred, but the tiny opener at the top would not be nearly large enough for me to

squeeze out. Trying my luck anyway, I stand on the WC seat to open it, peering out.

It’s dark outside, but there seems to be a courtyard and…. barns? Outbuildings? Yes, it’s an old

farmyard. If I can get outside, there should be plenty of nooks and crannies to lurk in while I get my

bearings.

I’ve used at least half of my allotted two minutes.

How to get out?

Break the glass?

Nope - there are cross-bars on the outside, the perfectly normal kind, often used as anti-burglar

devices in isolated buildings.

Perhaps….

It’s the oldest trick in the book. Could I be lucky enough that he’d be that stupid?

There is a bang on the door. “C’mon. Time’s up. Out you come.”

Silently, I open the small top-light, leaving it as wide ajar as I can, then stand behind the door.

The banging increases. “Come on. Out of there. Or I’ll come in.”

I remain silent, and after a second or two, there is a crash as the door is kicked in, me standing behind

it. I suppress an ‘Ow!’ as the door bounces in my face.

I can’t see the man, but hear, “Fuck!” and he dashes back out, and I hear the bang of another door

opening.

Darting out from my hiding place, into the hall where the outside door is swinging open, I dash out into

the darkness. I hear other doors opening behind me, and yells and shouts or pursuit from behind as I

run….

*****

Bolting out into the darkness, I duck into the cover of one of the barns, then halt. There’s no point

simply running. I can’t outrun them, and Beth is still in there, so I can’t just leave.

Watching figures dashing around the farmyard, running, searching, bawling and shouting, I back into

the shadows, trying to think.

Hands reach out from behind me, one pulling me in tight by the waist, and the other clapped firmly over

my mouth.


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