The room was arranged as an office. A large desk held a computer and assorted peripherals that none of them could identify. To one side was a telephone linked to a sophisticated tape recorder. A small video-editing desk was in one corner, next to a filing cabinet. A wheeled trolley carried a television and video, both state of the art and top of the range. Shelves lined two walls, filled with computer games, videos, cassettes and computer disks, each box labelled neatly in firm capitals. The only alien object in the room was a leather recliner, the material slung hammock-like on a steel frame.
‘Bingo,’ Brandon breathed. ‘Well done, Carol.’
‘Where the fuck do we start?’ Merrick said.
‘Do either of you know how to work the computer?’ Brandon asked.
‘I think we should leave that to the experts,’ Carol said. ‘It might be programmed to crash the data if someone else tries to log on.’
‘OK. Don, you take the filing cabinet, I’ll take the videos, and Carol, you take the cassettes.’
Carol moved across to the shelves of cassettes. The first couple of dozen seemed to be music tapes, ranging from Liza Minnelli to U2. Next were a dozen marked ‘AS’ and numbered from one to twelve. Fourteen marked ‘PG’ followed, then fifteen with ‘GF’, eight with ‘DC’ and six with ‘AH’. The concatenation of initials was far beyond the boundaries of coincidence. Carol picked the first ‘AH’ tape and, heart heavy with misgivings, slotted it into the cassette player. She picked up the headphones plugged into the machine and gingerly pushed them into her ears. She heard the sound of a telephone ringing, then a voice so familiar she could have wept. ‘Hello?’ Tony said, his voice reduced by the telephone line.
‘Hello, Anthony,’ a voice not entirely strange to her said.
‘Who is this?’ Tony asked.
A chuckle, low and sexy. ‘You’ll never guess. Not in a million years.’ Got it, thought Carol, grim foreboding gripping her. The voice on the answering machine.
‘OK, so tell me,’ Tony said, his voice curious, friendly, joining in the game.
‘Who would you like me to be? If I could be anyone in the world?’
‘Is this some kind of wind-up?’ Tony demanded.
‘I’ve never been more serious in my life. I’m here to make your dreams come true. I’m the woman of your fantasies, Anthony. I am your telephone lover.’
There was a moment’s silence, then the phone slammed down at Tony’s end. Over the dialling tone, Carol heard the strange woman say, ‘ Hasta la vista, Anthony.’
She stabbed the stop button and violently pulled out the headphones. She turned round to see Brandon transfixed by the image of Adam Scott stretched out on a rack, naked and apparently unconscious. Part of her mind could not comprehend what she was seeing. Evil, she thought, should be drenched in blood, not prosaically displayed on a suburban television screen.
‘Sir,’ she forced out. ‘The tapes. She’s been stalking Tony.’
Tony tried a laugh. It came out more like a sob, but he carried on regardless. ‘You expect me to get an erection? Trussed up like this? Angelica, you chloroformed me, kidnapped me and left me to come round alone in a torture chamber. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’ve got no experience of bondage. I’m too bloody scared to get a hard-on.’
‘I’m not letting you go, you know. Not to run straight back to them.’
‘I’m not asking you to let me go. Believe me, I’m happy to be your prisoner if that’s the only way I can spend time with you. I want to get to know you, Angelica. I want to prove my feelings to you, I want to show you what love feels like. I want to show you whose side I’m really on here.’ Tony tried to turn on the kind of smile he’d learned that women responded to.
‘So show me,’ Angelica challenged, letting one hand run caressingly down her body, lingering over her nipples and edging towards her crotch.
‘I’m going to need your help. Just like I needed you on the phone. You made me feel so good, like a real man. Please, help me now,’ Tony pleaded.
She took a step towards him, moving sinuously as a stripper. ‘You want me to turn you on?’ she drawled in a ghastly parody of seduction.
‘I don’t think I can do it like this,’ Tony said. ‘Not with my arms pinned behind me like this.’
Angelica stopped dead and scowled. ‘I said, I’m not letting you go.’
‘And I said I’m not asking you to. All I’m asking is that you cuff my hands in front of me. So I can touch you.’ Again, he forced the gentle smile.
She looked at him consideringly. ‘How do I know I can trust you? I’d have to set your hands free so I could cuff them in front of you. Maybe you’re trying to double-cross me.’
‘I won’t. I give you my word. If it makes you feel safer, chloroform me again. Do it while I’m unconscious,’ Tony said, gambling again. Her reaction would tell him all he needed to know about his chances.
Angelica moved behind him. An exultant voice in his head screamed ‘Yes!’ He felt the warmth of her hand between his as she gripped the cuffs and painfully jerked them up. ‘Shit!’ Tony yelled as new arrows of pain shot up his arms and through his shoulders. He heard a click of metal as the shackle connecting the rope to the handcuffs snapped free. Angelica released the handcuffs and Tony collapsed to his knees, his legs buckling under him. ‘Jesus Christ!’ he swore as he crashed forwards on to his face, feeling the rough stone graze his cheek.
Moving swiftly, Angelica unlocked one side of the handcuffs, seized the back of his hair and pulled him upwards. Still holding the arm with the handcuffs attached, she stepped in front of him and roughly gripped his other arm just below the bicep, dragging it across his body. Seconds later, his hands were cuffed again, this time in front of him. He knelt like a supplicant, his discomfort doubled by the tight leather straps round his ankles. ‘You see?’ he gasped. ‘I told you I wouldn’t try anything.’
Panting slightly, Angelica stood in front of him, legs apart. ‘So show me,’ she demanded.
‘You’ll have to help me up. I can’t do it by myself,’ he protested weakly.
She bent down and grabbed his hair again, hauling him up on to legs whose muscles trembled with the effort of staying upright. They stood, inches apart, the silk of her kimono brushing his hands. He could feel the warmth of her breath on the raw flesh of his grazed cheek. ‘Kiss me,’ he said softly. Whores never get to kiss, he told himself. This’ll make it different.
Something flickered in Angelica’s eyes, but she leaned over him, releasing his hair and pulling his face to hers. It took every ounce of his willpower not to flinch as her lips met his, her tongue invading his mouth, exploring his teeth and tongue. Your life depends on it, he told himself. You’ve got a plan. Tony forced himself to kiss her back, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, telling himself there were worse things in the world, and this woman had made her previous victims endure some of them.
After what felt like the longest kiss of his life, Angelica pulled away, looking critically down to his groin. ‘I’m going to need some help here,’ Tony said. ‘It’s not been an easy day.’
‘What kind of help?’ Angelica asked, panting slightly through parted lips. It was clear that she was having no difficulty with the sexual arousal that was beyond him.
‘Give me head. That’s the one thing that always works when I’m having trouble. I’ve felt your mouth now; I just know you’ll be terrific. Please, I really want to make love to you.’
Almost before he’d finished speaking, she was on her knees, hands flickering over his balls. Tenderly, she lifted his flaccid penis and slipped it into her mouth, not taking her eyes from his face. Tony reached out and began to stroke her hair. Then, with what felt like infinite slowness, he pulled her head forward on to him, forcing her head down, her eyes away from him.
Then, summoning up what remained of his strength, Tony raised his hands and brought the handcuffs crashing down on the back of Angelica’s head.
The blow caught her completely off guard and she went crashing forward between his legs, her teeth snagging agonizingly on him. Tony let himself fall backwards, feeling a tearing in his ankles as they protested against a movement they were never designed to make. As he hit the ground, he doubled forwards and grabbed Angelica’s head, banging it hard on the stone floor till her body stopped thrashing.
He dragged himself over her prone figure till his numb fingers could reach the ankle straps. With maddening clumsiness, he struggled to unfasten the sets of buckles that fixed him to the stone slab. After what felt like hours, he was finally free. As he tried to stand, his ankles refused the challenge, turning over and catapulting him to the floor again, sending excruciating daggers of pain up his legs. Moaning, he dragged himself across the floor towards
