It was more of a glancing blow than anything else and the whole salvo was only at half pace. I wanted him to go away because I needed to be doing other things not messing around with idiots in the dark.
Flat Top was just getting up as his comrade landed. It would have been simple to swing a haymaker downward to fell him once more, yet I gave him the benefit of the doubt and let him dart backward to get a yard between us.
‘I don’t want any trouble,’ I assured both men. Smiler was on the ground holding his lips, the pair of them looking at me with wide eyes and surprised looks.
This was the point when they would go for their knives or knuckle dusters if they had them.
‘You’re gonna pay, man!’ insisted Flat Top as he grabbed his friend’s robe to help him up. Just as Smiler got back on his feet, I took a menacing step in their direction.
It made them get their feet moving, but they didn’t let up on the threats as they ran away.
‘You’re gonna pay, man. You’re all gonna pay!’
I watched them for a second as they pelted down the road, beating a retreat.
‘Did that strike you as strange?’ I asked Basic.
Basic shrugged. ‘S’pose.’
Expecting a more detailed response from Basic would be folly, but I hadn’t imagined Smiler saying we were all going to pay.
What did that mean?
Jane. Working the Problem. Friday, December 23rd 1645hrs
I used a small piece of the duct tape from my wrists to cover the camera lens in the wall. Something about believing he couldn’t see me was reassuring.
My feet were free of the ropes and able to move around, which made me feel as though I had achieved something. It wasn’t much, I’ll grant you, but at least now I had my feet to kick with.
In the last couple of weeks, ever since I took on the stupid Karen Gilbert case that landed me in this mess, I have been attending a twice weekly martial arts class. I had to change classes after the very first one because one of the instructors made it abundantly clear that he wanted to use me as his personal sex toy.
I hadn’t learned a lot in two weeks, obviously, but at the same time, since my knowledge base beforehand was zero, I now felt that I could defend myself or even go on the attack if the chance arose.
I knew how to use my body to get the most energy into a kick, and how to break holds if I was grabbed. Such skills might have been really useful had I been conscious when the Sandman grabbed me. There was no sense in dwelling on that, but I satisfied myself that I would know he was coming next time since he would have to come into the cell to fetch me.
With the tape over the camera lens, he would have no idea I was free and ready for him. At least, that was the best scenario I could hope for and I was indeed hoping.
There were no sounds filtering down to me from whatever lay outside the four perfectly white walls of my cell and when I put my cheek against them, I felt no vibrations either. It was information, but not exactly useful because I had no clue what it meant. The cell could be soundproofed. Or maybe he lived alone and had gone out after he spoke to me.
There had been no reaction to me attempting to get free of my bindings, so it stood to reason he hadn’t observed me doing it. With that in mind, I used my fingers to pull my boots back on. They were white leather, knee high with a low heel – I didn’t go for big heels often because they made me too tall. They were not the best shoes for escaping a kidnapper, but they were all I had.
What remained as my next task was the bindings on my wrists. Compared to my ankles, which had been sloppy by comparison, bound as they were on the outside of my boots to give me some wiggle room, these did not look like they wanted to yield.
I still hadn’t found an end to pick at, nor anything in the room I could use to scratch or scrape at the rope. I’d already had a go at biting the rope and gnawing on it like a dog might. All I’d succeeded in doing was making the rope pink when my gums started to bleed.
The belt on my coat might have been useful if the buckle was tough enough to dig at the rope with, but it had been taken along with anything else I might have been able to use. For added complexity, my wrists were bound so my hands faced each other, so even if I had my belt buckle, manipulating it into a position where I could then use it on the rope might have proven impossible anyway.
Pushing daft thoughts about items I didn’t have at my disposal to one side, I got on the floor to look under the bed. I jolted when the bare skin of my arms met the cold tile, swore at myself for being weak, and wriggled like an inverted snake on my back to get under the mattress.
The bed was the only thing in the room and though I claimed that it was comfortable, it didn’t have any covers on it, just a memory foam mattress.
There were no springs supporting the mattress; I knew that already, but looked around forlornly for anything I might use to work on the rope.
