Hope's Vengeance (36 page)

Olive nudged her brother. “She’s having a baby, silly, it’s going to come out of her bottom.”

Bern’s face crinkled with disgust. “Yuck, that’s disgusting.” Instantly disinterested, he ran from the room. Not quite as squeamish, Olive decided to stay and watch, she could tell all her friends about it afterwards. With completely opposite personalities the two girls tended to bicker a lot, but even so, Olive hated to see her sister hurting like this. She trotted through to the kitchen, rooting through the fridge, the food store, finally settling on a tin of biscuits, and she trotted back, wafting the open tub under Penny’s nose.

Another contraction was welling in the small of her back, and the sickly sweet aroma that surrounded her caused her to choke with nausea. She raised a hand, the involuntary growl already emitting as her womb clenched fiercely, and she swiped the tin out of Olive’s hand, biscuits and crumbs scattering all over the plush, cream carpet.

Charity instantly drew a shocked hand to her heart, gasping at the mess. “For God’s sake, be careful of the carpet, Penny! It’s an Axminster, it cost nearly eight thousand to do just this room!”

Nearly an Hour Later

Claudia’s feet were aching and she was frustrated that, despite knocking on seemingly endless doors, they’d not found anybody who recognised any of the names, let alone finding the owners of the names themselves. After their stop at room forty they’d decided to split, each taking one side of the corridor to try and speed the process up, but it didn’t make it any less tedious. She reached room sixty nine and rapped on the door, and she could hear a noise from the room, a retching. Concerned, Claudia shouted through the door. “It’s the police here. Are you okay in there?”

The reply was weak, pathetic and inaudible, instantly followed by more painful retching. Instinct swamped over her, something felt very wrong. “Dave, in here, we need to get in here, and quick.”

“I’ll go down to reception to get the…”

She surprised herself with her urgency. “No. We need to be in there now, right now.”

Krein caught her eye, remembering why he loved working with the woman so much, she had such an impressive intuition. Bracing himself for the painful bruise he was about to give himself, he slammed his shoulder against the door, forcing it open, and Claudia rushed past him into the room.

Inside, the setting seemed unnaturally spotless, apart from the pile of empty tablet blisters scattered haphazardly on the bed, the room was impeccable. Beside them, naked and curled into the foetal position lay Griffin Hall, his pallid face swimming in a pool of frothy, foul, acidic vomit. Claudia whipped her radio out, requesting back up and an ambulance urgently. Krein bolted to the bed, dragging the seriously ill man away from the stomach contents, before manhandling him into the recovery position. He checked for breathing and a pulse. “It’s very slow, and his breathing’s shallow. He’s not got long if they don’t get here quick.”

Back on her radio, Claudia could hear the graveness in her voice. “That ambulance, we need it now, blues and twos, the guy’s in a bad way.”

Unable to do anything more than to wait for help, both detectives ambled independently about the room, assessing the layout, searching for clues to explain the bizarre situation they were involved in. Intrigued by the red welts on Griffin Hall’s wrists and ankles, Krein surveyed them closely, guessing at what had caused them. With several scenarios registered in his mind, the detective continued his search. Griffin’s clothes lay folded on the chair near the balcony, shoes neatly tucked underneath. There were no signs of a struggle, no signs of anything untoward, except an overdosed man with possible bondage wounds, who had recently been accused of paedophilia.

“Is this attempted suicide, Claud?”

She shook her head, strangely unenthusiastic. “In my opinion, no.”

“Uh-huh. I share your opinion. But why?”

Claudia gestured with her arms wide." It's too tidy. If you’re about to kill yourself you don’t fold your clothes up neatly ready for the next day.”

Krein lifted Griffin’s limp arm. “And it looks as if he may have been tied up, too. I think we may have hit on a crime scene.”

Claudia glared at the man on the bed, the face she’d seen several times in her recent investigations, albeit less healthy, and she felt nothing but scorn and revulsion. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer man. Still, it’s our job to keep him alive if possible.”

“Bit of a filthy one, is he?”

Claudia rolled her eyes. “You would not believe what he forced those women to do when they we just seven years old, it was the worst, he’s one sick bastard all right. I tell you, Dave, if it was one of those girls who did this, or even both, I can’t say I blame them!”

Outside they could hear footsteps running towards the door, and Claudia opened it wide for the paramedics to begin their life-saving, strapping monitors and probes to the man, moving him minimally. Without warning Krein suddenly dashed towards the door, grabbing Claudia by the arm, dragging her alongside him. “We’re bloody idiots, Claude! We should have checked room one twenty again. Come on.”

Too Late

The room was empty, if it had been Hope Brown who was staying in the room, as it had said on the register, then she’d packed her bags and gone. Although she knew that ethically she shouldn’t be, Claudia was pleased, Hope had been through enough. With both detectives having been in the police force for all their working lives, searching for clues, delving for evidence, was second nature to them, and they both wandered around, eyes scanning, brains retaining the scene.

The phone repeated the incessant ringing for the hundredth time, or so it seemed, and, curious, Claudia answered after Krein’s nod gave her permission. “Hello?”

“Thank God for that, it’s about bloody time, I’ve been ringing for ever. It’s Penny, she’s giving birth on my Cantoni sofa, you never even told me she was pregnant, and now…”

“Excuse me! My name’s Detective Inspector Claudia Horseferry, who are you trying to reach?”

“Oh, for God’s sake, that bloody receptionist is a bloody bimbo, I asked for room one twenty.”

“You’ve got one twenty. Are you looking for Hope?”

“Oh, don’t start bloody preaching to me, that’s the last bloody thing I need right now, this is a disaster.” Charity’s irritable panic was palpable.

Claudia stifled a laugh, she tried again. “I mean, are you after Hope Brown?”

“Oh, right, I get you, um, yes, she’s my sister, my niece’s mother, Penny’s, that is. She needs to get home, Penny’s refusing to go to hospital without her, and the baby’s on its way, it’s close. We’ve got two paramedics here, but even they can’t persuade her so they’ve had to try and get two midwifes to come for a home birth. If Hope doesn’t get here soon that child is going to be born in my lounge, and quite apart from anything the smell in this room is disgusting already, I’ll have to leave the windows open for ages to get rid of it, and it’s freezing outside.”

“You say it’s Hope’s daughter. I thought her daughters were young.” Claudia’s brow was furrowed in confusion.

“They are, Penny’s only thirteen, little slut. Shouldn’t even know what sex is at that age.” In the background Claudia could hear a roar, gradually mutating into a shrilling scream, she briefly held the phone from her ear.

“So when Hope comes back from Cambridge she’ll be going straight to your house?”

“Yes, and she’d better hurry up too, can you pass that on to her.” It was an order rather than a question.

Claudia scratched her head, an idea forming rapidly. “We don’t know where she is, she’s left the hotel. I can only assume she’s on her way back to you already. Look, if you know her car details we can put out an emergency trace, try and get a helicopter to bring her over on a mercy dash.”

The relief in her sigh was colossal. Her voice distanced and Claudia guessed she’d turned from the phone. “Penny, what’s the registration number of your Mum’s car?”

Reception

Dawn rushed through the large glass doors, she sprinted to the reception desk. Without waiting to be acknowledged she hurriedly asked which room Hope Brown was in. The receptionist rolled her eyes, she knew the answer off by heart now. “One hundred and twenty. I think she’s having a party up there, judging by the amount of people who want to be in there!”

Krein, who, with Claudia, stepped from the lift, ready to set off towards East Anglia to meet up with Hope, stood motionless, facing Dawn. “Excuse me. Were you asking after room one twenty?” He began striding towards Dawn, who nodded her answer.

“Why do you want that room? Who are you?” He’s removed his badge and was holding it forward for her.

Dawn reddened, nervous. “I’m Dawn Faraday, I’m looking for my brother and his girlfriend.”

Krein chuckled with the realisation. “Ah, counsellor Dawn, worried Hope might be about to harm him. He’s safe, we’re on our way to see them both now. Follow us if you want to see him.”

Dawn nodded, the blonde curls bobbing as relief washed over her. The words she was desperate to hear were a symphony of joy: ‘he’s safe’. Rick, her baby brother, was alive.

Drama on the Roadside

The police car was parked on the side of the country road, the nearside wheels up on the grassy verge, and both of the constables sitting inside watched, bored, as the traffic passed them, heading away from the historical town of Diss. They were close to giving up when the car with the registration number they were searching for finally passed, brakes lights glaring as Hope desperately attempted to fall to the speed limit.

The driver hastily fired the engine and turned the siren and lights on, filtering in behind the car, which was now in the distance. Exceeding the sixty mile per hour restriction to catch up, they raced forward, the second officer radioing that the car had been located, providing a detailed grid reading of the area to help the helicopter’s pilot position the craft in a suitable place for the pick-up.

Annoyed, Hope spotted the flashing blue illuminating her rear view mirror, and she swore under her breath, unwillingly resigned to another three points on her licence. She pulled over, bumping up the verge, and waited, while the lofty driver trotted urgently towards her, bending to the window Hope had now opened when he reached the car. He glanced at the notepad in his hand. “Madam, are you Mrs Hope Brown?”

She was stunned, jaw dropping in disbelief. “How on earth do you know my name?”

The policeman had already opened her door, coaxing her out as the noise from the helicopter’s rotors whirred overhead. Clambering out, puzzled, Hope glanced at the bright spotlights above her, before questioning the officer with her confused expression. “We’re on a mercy dash, we need to get you to your sister’s house immediately.” Instantly Hope’s heart began to speed up, adrenaline surging, the pressure on her chest increasing, and she hugged her body to quell the ache.

Bewildered, Rick climbed out of the passenger side, eager to protect his woman. “What’s going on? What are you doing?”

“Could I ask who you are, sir?” The officer, gigantic beside Hope’s petite frame, was already steering her towards the waiting harness, which swayed precariously, attached to a rope fed from the helicopter, and she debated whether she should struggle free, or remain compliant. “He’s my fiancé, I want him with me.”

Within seconds he had the harness wrapped over her shoulders, feeding the ropes through her legs and clasping all the safety catches securely. The speed of his actions alone were enough to convey the urgency of the situation, and Hope became more anxious by the moment, scared of what they were mercy dashing to. “No time, love,” he waved at the pilot, issuing a ‘thumbs up’ signal, and Hope, feeling her body leave the ground, trailing behind the helicopter as it accelerated away, began to panic. The policeman, his size diminishing rapidly as they flew east, shouted after her. “It’s okay, love, we’ll take him in the car, he’ll be with you soon.”

Within a minute she had been winched to the vessel and helped aboard by the crew.

New Life

Panicking that her mother still wasn’t with her, unaware that she’d been picked up and was now just minutes away, Penny let out another blood-curdling scream. Her body was urging her to push, and her natural instinct was to comply, but every time she did it felt as if her whole body was tearing in two.

Behind the sofa Charity was pacing the room, her head down, eyes shielded from the disgusting scene by her hand. “This is just revolting, Penny, why couldn’t you just wait until you got home to do this! God, the smell, it’s making me feel sick, and all that bloody gore everywhere, foul! I tell you, none of it better get on my furniture, or my carpet for that matter!”

“You fucking selfish bitch.” Pant, pant, pant. “I’m squeezing a fucking beach ball out and,” pant, pant, pant, “all you can think about is your fucking furniture.” The final syllable matured into a roar as the fire burned insatiably through her again.

The attending midwife, Linda, unable to do anything but soothe and encourage the child-woman until the baby’s head crowned, glanced at Becky, the assisting midwife, and they shared an incredulous smile. Linda, herself a mother of four, glanced at the birth’s progress from behind Penny’s kneeling body, and patted her shoulder gently. “It’s okay sweetheart, you’re nearly there, not long now and this will all be forgotten.”

Penny’s venomous stare shot in Linda’s direction. “Fucking forgotten, my arse! I’ll never forget this pain, ever. Where’s my mother?” That was all she had time for, the next contraction already squeezing her words away, replacing them with an animal growl.

The sound of a doorbell stopped Charity in her tracks, she darted from the room, eagerly letting the officers in and beckoning them through to the lounge. Regretting it instantly, they glanced uncomfortably at the naked child on the sofa as she screamed in agony, and both men turned away, salvaging a miniscule bit of her modesty. Their attempt to keep her dignity was ignored, Penny was irate. “Get those fucking men fucking out of here, I’ve got no fucking clothes on!” They needed no further prompting: relieved, they returned to the hallway, followed by Charity, incredulous at Penny’s behaviour.