‘ At home. You follow me. I’ll pay you for this lot over a drink, civilised like.’ He patted his pocket to indicate he was carrying the whisky money.
‘ OK,’ Henry said reluctantly. Actually it was an offer he could not refuse — to get into Thompson’s home was a major step forwards.
‘ You can fuck him off — we don’t need him,’ Gunk said about Terry.
‘ Sure.’ Henry walked up to Terry who was leaning out of the van window. Gunk was by Henry’s shoulder, listening, making it impossible for Henry to say anything discreetly to Terry, even though he would not have done anyway. ‘Thanks, pal,’ Henry called. ‘I’ll be in touch.’ He gave him a thumbs-up.
Terry got the message and pulled away, bouncing across the ground towards the road.
Henry and Gunk stood side by side, watched the tail-lights disappear. As the sound of the engine grew fainter, Gunk launched a ferocious punch into the side of Henry’s skull, sending him staggering away. He followed it up by another equally hard drive in much the same place. Henry’s legs gave up the ghost and before he even knew he’d been hit, he was unconscious on the ground.
She was smoking too much, she knew. However, a meal like the one she had just eaten needed to be complemented with at least two cigarettes and a Tia Maria to make her feel warm and mellow. She lit up and inhaled deeply. The perfect end, Danny thought happily. If only she was now going to be seduced by some slick Spanish millionaire, her evening would have been complete.
As it was, she would be alone.
She called for the bill and the highly attentive waiter scurried to the request. She tipped him generously and bade him a sweet goodnight. He looked desolate and lovelorn as he watched her walking away from the restaurant, wringing a towel in his hands.
At the next-but-one restaurant along, Loz finished his San Miguel and tossed a few coins on to the table, began to tail Danny.
She sauntered down on to the promenade and stood by the edge of the beach where she lit yet another cigarette and gazed at the intricately constructed sand sculptures which had been created during the day by artistic beach bums. The sky above was phenomenally clear. The stars sparkled like they’d just been polished. Danny hugged herself. The troubles of her recent past seemed far away in this environment. The memory of Jack Sands was nebulous and fading. Her feelings for Henry Christie had been firmly dealt with, she believed. She would not touch another married man with a barge pole, she promised herself. Too dangerous and complicated by half, and there were never any winners. What kind of appealed to her was a divorce, all the angst of separation put behind him, with maybe a couple of kids — eight, nine years old, say — who needed a mother. That would be good: an instant family.
Something dawned on her. Maybe this was the missing link in her life. God, what a strange sensation… but she suddenly wanted to be a mother.
Her legs went weak. Married and a mother, that’s what I want.
Christ, she thought fearfully. Am I cracking up? Is this really my brain in my head? Is this really my own feeling in the pit of my stomach?
She had totally shocked herself.
The jolt did not last for long.
Loz, who had been shadowing her, moved in — aware that other people were about, but knowing that if he was quick, he could get away with it. He strode up behind Danny. His good hand went between her legs and grabbed her crotch, squeezing tightly. His bandaged arm wrapped around her throat and pulled her backwards into him so that his rough, unshaven cheek was next to her ear.
She instantly smelled his breath and sweat and the pungent odour from his hand.
‘ You shouldn’t wear such short skirts,’ Loz growled in her ear. He squeezed tighter between her legs.
Danny struggled.
‘ No fucking chance.’ Loz’s grip grew stronger. He bundled her down on to the beach, a hand wrapped around her face to prevent her screaming. The smell made her gag. He withdrew his hand from her sex and punched her short, sharp and hard in the lower back. Danny tried a back-jab, but Loz stepped out of range and laughed. He propelled her towards a row of fishing boats drawn up on the sand by the edge of the sea, dark and unlit, deep black shadow cast between them.
The half-bucket of water was hurled into his face brought him round, though he remained totally disorientated. He shook his head, which, at first, he thought was face down on a hard floor, but the rest of his body didn’t seem to link in with that idea. And his arms. He could not move his arms. They were trapped in something like a vice. He swooned again, fading out of consciousness. Another dash of cold water cascaded over him, reviving him, jogging his memory.
Terry had driven away and Gunk had smashed him on the side of the head with a fist like a brick. Then there was nothing until this.
Henry’s eyes fluttered open. He was still unable to decide what was going on. He tried to move, to pull himself up. He moved his throbbing head round, muttering, ‘What’s going…?’ and only then did it fall into place. He was bent over a Black amp; Decker Workmate. His arms had been pushed through the jaws which had then been tightened up. His wrists were handcuffed together by twine, which was also wrapped around the cross member which joined the legs of the workmate. The whole thing was weighted down with some of the heavy circular weights from the multi-gym making it virtually immovable.
Henry moved his head round again. Gunk stepped into his line of sight, wearing a stupid grin of triumph.
‘ Hiya, Frank — or whatever your name is.’
‘ What’s going on, Gunk? What’s this for?’
Gunk held up a silencing finger. ‘Shut up, Frank. I know you’re a cop.’
‘ What the hell are you talking about? We’ve been through all this shit before. I am not a cop, so let me go.’
Gunk shook his head. ‘I know you’re a cop. An undercover cop. I always knew, always suspected. Just something about you that never quite rang true for me. Intuition, I suppose you’d call it. Me in touch with my feminine side.’
‘ You’re wrong, Gunk. Now let me go.’
‘ I hate being done over by anybody, but when a cop does it, I’m really fucking annoyed.’ He leaned into Henry’s face. ‘So you know what? I’m going to make you suffer.’ He reached underneath Henry and found his belt buckle which he started to unfasten. All the while he retained eye-contact. ‘I, on the other hand, will enjoy this. Know what I mean?’
Henry understood exactly. Gunk, who had previously indicated how much he would like to bugger Henry was now going to do just that. Henry started to struggle violently, all sorts of horrendous images flying through his mind. He strained against the twine which fastened his wrists.
A gun appeared in Gunk’s hand. He shoved it into Henry’s cheek and roughly screwed the muzzle into Henry’s mouth, cracking against teeth. Henry stopped moving instantly. His eyes were wide open in fear. Gunk was breathing heavily.
‘ Now then, Frank, if that’s what you want to be called, the choice you have is very simple. Honestly. Stop struggling and let this thing take its natural course like two grown men and I won’t be rough with you. I mean, I will fuck you good and proper, that definitely will happen. Alternatively you can have a bullet in your mouth now. Your choice, pal. Death or rape.’ Gunk’s voice dropped to a whisper. ‘I know which I’d choose.’
Loz threw Danny down on to the sand between two fishing boats, hardly fifty yards away from the promenade.
He dropped on top of her like a dead weight, forcing himself between her legs, driving all the air out of her body, and pulling her skirt up over her hips. He jammed his dirty bandaged hand over her mouth and with his other he held her left wrist, effectively pinning her down. She could hardly move underneath him.
‘ Now then, you fucking flighty bitch,’ he panted into her face, spittle bubbling out of his mouth. The exertion of the struggle with her across the beach had expended most of his stamina. However, he was on top, in control, had the power. He smiled wickedly and ground his pubic’ bone against hers. She whimpered. ‘You’ve been asking
