HIDDEN SECRETS (11 page)

“I do not allow women in the rooms at any time; no exceptions. The front door is locked at eleven thirty, so take your key with you if you intend to be late,” she paused, and then added.

“Breakfast is from 8.30-9.30, with no exceptions, and the evening meal is served between 5.-6 o’clock.”
”With no exceptions,” he pre-empted her.

“I’ll leave you to settle in then,” she threw him a disapproving look.

Pat unpacked his few belongings and placed his laptop on the bed. This was his prized possession; it was about all he did possess, everything else had been sold to pay for alcohol and a mountain of bills. With arrears in his rent, he was dangerously close to losing the flat before Danny had bailed him out again. Everything would be different now; this story would put him back at the top where he belonged. All he had to do was keep off the booze. A loud knock on the door startled him and he looked up. Annoyed at the intrusion, he opened the door to find the scowling face of Mrs. Dooley glaring at him.

“One more thing,” she attempted to peer into the room hoping to find something to chastise him over.

“I don’t allow smoking in any of the rooms, no exceptions.”

“O.K.” Pat smiled. “Is there anything else?”

“If there is I’ll let you know.”

“Goodbye Mrs. Dooley.” Pat closed the door and turned the key in the lock; there would be no more intrusions, no exceptions!

In the corner of the room was an old fashioned chair and table he hadn’t noticed before. Dragging them over to the bed, he placed his laptop on the table and pulled up the chair; this was now his office. Opening the window to its fullest extent, Pat took his cigarettes from his Jacket and defiantly lit one, drawing deeply on the forbidden pleasure. With enthusiasm, he proceeded to type up his report as the room quickly began to fill with smoke, before it drifted gently through the open window. The atmosphere stirred memories of the past, the past in a smoke-filled room where he had produced his finest stories. This would come again, he could feel the buzz and the adrenalin pumping as he struck letter after letter on his keyboard.

CHAPTER 8.

SUNDAY EVENING

Ben Preston struggled frantically to free himself from the tightly bound ropes that dug painfully into his flesh. Blindfolded and unable to move, he had lost all perception of time. He could have been in this situation for a day or a week as he shivered with cold and fear. Someone bought him food and allowed him accompanied visits to the bathroom, but his constant questions and pleas to be released went unanswered.

        In the silence, he turned his head suddenly at the sound of a door opening. Footsteps were coming towards him closer and closer until he could hear the sound of soft breathing. A leg brushed his as the unseen person passed by. A spoon was pushed into his lips forcing him to open his mouth. Something cold and tasteless was fed to him, and he spat it out. Refusing to take anymore, the spoon-feeding stopped. The sound of the door closing signalled once again, he was alone.

        How had he come to be tied up in the dark? The last thing he remembered was sitting in his car in the hotel car park. A hand was clamped over his mouth and he couldn’t breathe. A strong smell of perfume lingered in his nostrils, and then everything went black. God knows how long he had been unconscious, but he had wasted no time in calling out for help. Surely someone had heard his desperate pleas? Why hadn’t he been found? Kate would have known he was missing by now and phoned the police. It only had to be a matter of time before he was rescued.

“Who are you? Why are you keeping me here?” he shouted into the darkness.

As usual there was no response. He made another desperate attempt to free himself but to no avail; gritting his teeth in frustration he let out a rasping growl. This did nothing to alleviate his pent-up emotions, and he realised there was no other option than to sit it out. In the darkness he tried to visualise Kate’s face and then Emma’s, but they both merged into one. Then it hit him. Was this his wife’s way of exacting revenge; had she found out about Emma and the baby, and decided to punish him in this devious manner? Without arriving at an answer, he heard the door open for the second time. Breathing heavily in the darkness, he listened as the familiar footsteps approached him, and a hand roughly snatched the blindfold from his eyes.

        Ben screwed his eyes up in pain as the unaccustomed light shone brightly into his face. After a few minutes, his blurred vision cleared and he focused on the image of a woman before him. The sight of her caused his heart rate to increase and beads of perspiration to prick his brow. She had changed, but there could be no doubt of her identity. Her hair was a different colour and she had gained a few pounds, but the ruthless glint in her eye portrayed the despised woman.

“Now, what do I call you? Is it Gerry or is it Ben?” she cocked her head to one side and smiled slyly.

“What do you want Anne?” he avoided her stare.

“You haven’t answered my question?” she smirked and leaned forward now only inches from his face. She looked older, fine lines circled her deep set eyes adding to the harshness of her features. In the past she had always taken great pride in her appearance. Her love of modern fashion and high heels were non-existent as he glanced at her flat shoes and drab outfit. Amongst a crowd of people he would never have recognised her. Her body language however, betrayed her. The familiar way she blinked repeatedly whilst awaiting a reply to a question, and impatient foot-tapping had not diminished with age.
“You know exactly what I mean you twisted bitch. Why am I here?”

“Now that’s no way to speak to your wife, is it?” she ran her fingers through his hair.

Ben re-coiled and replied maliciously, “you’re not my wife.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you darling, but I most certainly am and any court in the country will agree with me. You just disappeared, changed your name and remarried. That makes you a bigamist, and a criminal,” she raised her eyebrows and smiled.

“That’s where you’re wrong. I didn’t just change my name I became Ben Preston with a birth certificate, passport, and social security number to prove it,” he snarled.

“You might well be Ben Preston on paper, but you can’t change your DNA. A simple blood test will prove that,” she argued.

“What do you mean?”

“Keep up Gerry. As your legal wife I could be entitled to half of your assets. I’ve spent years trying to track you down, and I was about to give up when you came to me. I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw you coming out of your office. You led me straight to your home; you have done well for yourself Gerry. I would have liked a bigger garden though, and perhaps an ornamental pond with those big goldfish; what are they called Gerry?”

“I don’t give a shit.” He lunged forward but was held back by his bound hands. “Untie my hands now,” he raised his voice and surprisingly, she complied.

“Why couldn’t you just leave me alone?” he rubbed his wrists and stood up to stretch his legs.

“Well if you really thought I would just disappear and let you get away with what you’ve done to me and the girls, you’re deluded.”

“That was in the past Anne; why can’t you just leave it there?” he pleaded with her.

“Our past Gerry, not mine. Now I thought it was time your wife, sorry your mistress, knew of my existence. So I sent her some photographs of us together. Did she like them?”

“You really are a sick bitch,” he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders.

“And you are still very strong,” she stroked his firm bicep.

“She does know about your past doesn’t she?” he released her.

“What is there to know, it was a mistake.”

“Oh I thought so,” Anne sneered and shook her head. You haven’t told her, have you?”

“There’s no need for her to know,” Ben distanced himself from her.

“I could tell her if you want me to, if you’re not man enough to do it yourself,” she grinned. Her intimidating remark provoked the desired reaction; Ben leapt forward and charged at her.

“Keep away from my wife and my business I’m warning you,” his eyes blazed with anger.

“Get your hands off me now,” she struggled to release herself from his grip.

“Your business is the reason you’re here, but I don’t want your dirty money. My organisation is very interested in you, and your products. We do not like the tests you carry out on defenceless animals,” the smile left her face.
”So this is why I’m here; you’ve joined some loony group of animal rights campaigners haven’t you?” he released his grip on her.

“There’s nothing loony as you put it, about pouring chemicals into animal’s eyes and onto their bare skin,” she was so close he could feel the warmth of her breath.

“Oh come on, we have to carry out tests to be certain our products are safe. Anyway I’m not personally responsible. Why don’t you stand outside the laboratories and wave a banner, or hurl abuse at the staff there?”
“That doesn’t work Gerry, actions speak louder than words. So we persecute people like you who profit from these evil acts of cruelty. People who live lives of affluence like you and Alex Lawton. Do you know that he owns ten hotels, three homes and six cars?” her eyes began to blink erratically.

“Why does anyone need six bloody cars?”

“What’s he got to do with this?”

“He’s just signed a contract with your vile company for your cleaning services. You are to withdraw this contract and cease testing your products on animals, or you will pay the consequences.”

“So what do you intend to do?  Pour acid on my car, fire bomb my house,” he taunted her.

“We prefer to leave that sort of thing to the amateurs. Our most effective deterrent is to kill a member of your family or a close friend; it’s worked wonders in the past. It’s a well planned organisation; we have members working in Lawton’s hotels, trusted employees who have been in his employment for years, just waiting for their chance to contribute to the cause. Your company has two of our members on the pay role” she savoured the revelation.

“No, you’re wrong my staff are checked very thoroughly before I employ them,” he shook his head firmly.

“Not thoroughly enough Gerry.”

“Your wife was so close to becoming a victim, only she wasn’t at home when we paid her a visit. We had to make it look like a break-in, an act of vandalism, but next time she won’t be so lucky.”

“If you harm one hair on her head I will hunt you down and kill you,” Ben raised his hand to strike her, but backed down.

“Am I supposed to be concerned?” she smirked.

You’re sick, I can’t believe I was married to you.”
“Correction my love, you still are.”

“So it was you who broke into our house?” he chose to ignore her remark.

“You’re very slow on the uptake Gerry.”

“Why are you doing this? People have a right to know that the products they use are safe. Someone has to test them; you can’t go around killing them because you think it’s morally wrong,” he shook his head in disbelief.

“We’ve been doing just that for years.”

“I don’t believe you,” he replied.

“Do you remember Duncan Brownsword, the head of Merckell Pharmaceuticals?” she asked.

“He died in an accident on holiday with his family,” Ben re-called.

“It was a boating accident, or should I say an arranged boating accident. He was a very difficult man who totally refused to stop testing his new drugs on animals. So he met with an accident. Fortunately for us, his company failed to prosper without his expertise and it was closed down; another success story for us without any police involvement. I could name you a dozen more victories, but a lot of our victims aren’t household names. We have a list of names, graded according to the gravity of their actions. You were number twenty on the list, but this contract with Lawton has elevated you to number ten, that’s quite an achievement Gerry. When you have been dealt with, it’ll be Lawton’s turn.”

“So are you keeping me here because of the contract with Lawton, or because I left you?” he asked

“Both of course; I can kill two birds with one stone.”

“How the hell did you come to be mixed up with these people?”

“These people as you call them feel passionately about the suffering of thousands, no millions of animals. Do you know that in the U.S. alone, twenty million animals a year are subjected to tests and experiments? Not just mice and rats, dogs, cats and monkeys are all subjected to this vile practice. They test drugs on isolated tissue or organs and the results don’t show how it will react on the body.  The law states that theses laboratories must provide food and shelter, but what about compassion and freedom from pain Gerry, what do you think when you’re counting your money and sitting in your luxurious home? Is your conscience clear?” her eyes burned with passion. 

“Why are you blaming me I’m not responsible,” he attempted to persuade her.

“Do I have to tell you again, haven’t you been listening to me?” she screamed at him.