The Collectors Book Six: Black Gold (The Collectors Series 6) (5 page)

              Twenty minutes later Allan negotiated the car into a deep wood and alighted.

              Henry joined him. “A well concealed spot.”

              “Far enough away from his house for his activities to remain unnoticed.”

              “Unnoticed by whom?”

              “Come, I will show you.”

              The two men walked at a steady pace through the trees, stopping when open ground lay before them. To their left, closed black painted gates, and armed men and dogs ensured security.

              “He pays for the privilege of privacy. No one enters without prior notice. The place I have shown you is perfect for what you must do."

              They returned to the car and a while later Allan dropped Henry off, away from the concrete jetty.

              Henry walked the short distance to where the coach waited.

              The driver smiled.” I was going to give you ten more minutes.”

              With a broad grin Henry sidled close. Out of sight of the others he handed over a roll of Rupees.

              The driver pulled the lever by his side and closed the door. “Better take your seat, sir.”

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The following afternoon, Henry settled his frame behind the carcass of a fallen tree, while keeping an eye on the road that led from the town. Not far away covered in branches to conceal its shape, his hired motor bike.  The trees gave shelter from the sun but anxious, sweat poured from his skin. He dropped to the ground as the Rolls Royce driven by Ryan Banga drove from the narrow road and into a cleared area.

              The vehicle stopped and Ryan pulled a young woman from the passenger seat. “We will do it here.”

              “I can’t and I don’t need your money,” said the female, her manner hostile to his every move.

              “I have given you a year’s wages. You will pleasure me or I’ll take what is mine and your husband will lose his job?”

              “My husband works hard. Find a willing woman. I know many who will do what you ask.”

              Ryan’s voice became harsh. “Remove your clothes or I will rip them off.”

              Henry peered through the foliage aware of what was about to happen. This was not his concern. He wanted Banga to give him the information on Goliath.

              The woman screamed as Ryan tore her thin cotton dress and tossed it aside. With force he shoved her face down to the ground and fell on her.

              “Scream as loud as you can. No one can hear you and I‘ll enjoy ripping into you much more.”

              Henry had seen and heard enough. With Ryan in the midst of his vicious thrusting, he booted the man in the head. Ryan grunted and collapsed onto the woman. He pulled him off and dragged him away. From his trouser pocket he removed a length of telephone wire and secured the unconscious man to the trunk of a tree.

              The woman watched in horror while attempting to cover her nakedness. Sobbing, she asked in English, “Who are you? Do you know what you have done? My husband will lose his job and he will have us and my children thrown out of our house.”

              “A ‘thank you’ might be good. I always thought that most women believed anal rape is worse than death.” He searched Ryan’s pockets until he found his wallet. He removed the notes. “Here, take this and you’ve never seen me.”

              She pointed. “He will know.”

              “I promise this creature will vanish from the face of the earth. You have no worries but spend his money well.”

              She jumped up, turned away from him and dressed. Enough buttons remained to hide her flesh.

              “Go. Return to your home.”

              She smiled and bowed her head before running and vanishing in the trees.

              Henry rubbed his hands and gazed around as he searched for a suitable place to hide the car.

              Two hundred metres away the Rolls was parked.  The engine started on the turn of the key. Careful not to damage too many trees, Henry drove deep into the wood and dumped it in a shallow rift. “What a waste,” he muttered as he returned to where his captive struggled.

              Ryan lifted his head. Sweat rolled down his face as Henry approached. “You will not get away with this.”

              “That’s funny because you’re the one tied to a tree.”

              “Tell me why you have done this?.”

              Henry struck Ryan’s face with a clenched fist.  “Goliath.” Blood ran from a busted nose. “I need information and I don’t have a lot of time. For what you did to that woman I should cut your balls off.”

              “I pay them well for my requirements.”

              “I bet you do. How many bowls of rice can they buy? Who drove Goliath onto your beach?”

              Ryan smiled. “You might as well kill me for if I tell you, she will.”

              “So you know.” From his jacket pocket he removed an ivory-handled cut-throat razor and opened it. The steel blade reflected the rays of a fading sun. “Do you know how much blood is in the human body?”

              “W... Why would I,” stuttered the struggling Ryan.

              Henry played with the razor running the flat of the blade across the palm of his left hand. “An average man’s body contains five and a half litres of blood. In a day your blood travels thousands of miles. I believe we should find out if that fact is correct.” He knelt. “You have fine flabby legs, my friend, plenty of blood.” With the razor grasped in his right hand he drew the glistening edge of the blade across both thighs. Ryan screamed.

              “Tell me what I need to know.”

              “I don’t know her name.”

              “Of course you do. Now this will hurt.” The blade sliced deep into the flesh of the right leg. “Don’t worry, I missed the artery. You’ll live a long while.”

              Ryan sobbed. “No more please, no more.”

              “I can keep this up for a long while and I doubt if anyone can hear your screams. Now we carve left leg.”

              “No. No. I will tell you everything.”

              Henry yanked the blunt edge of the blade across Ryan’s throat. “You’ll tell me the truth. Oh, my God, you’ve shit yourself. That’s disgusting.” He stood and walked away.

              For a time he leant his back against a tree, waited and watched his captive. As if he did not have a care in the world, he strolled back and kicked the bleeding leg. “Start talking and if I believe you, I’ll bandage your leg.”

              Ryan did not stop until his story ended. “That is the truth and when they find out, my wife and children will be killed.”

              Henry grimaced. “I believe you but tell me again just to make sure.”

              He repeated the story almost word for word. “Why are you doing this?”

              “For my father, a man who never hurt anyone.”

              Beads of sweat formed on Ryan’s forehead. “Do I know your father?”

              Henry checked his watch. “It’s time. From his jacket he removed a small recorder. He rewound and pressed play. Ryan’s voice came across loud and clear. “Glad we talked. Say hello to my father.”

              Ryan looked at him with a quizzical expression on his face. “You said you’d bandage my leg.”

Chapter Seven

Henry showered and being refreshed, sat on his balcony as he composed a text to Peter Wells. Finished, he pressed ‘send’. Relaxed, he let his mind wander as he recapped his progress. Dai Lin needed to be eradicated. The woman Linda Liu murdered his father but where was she?

              His room telephone rang. He leapt out of his chair and raced to the phone.

              “Good evening, Henry.”

              “Hi, Peter. I just sent you a text.”

              “I know. The goods you require will take a couple of days to arrange. The boys in Mumbai are working on it as we speak. By the way, we have removed the garbage we talked about. Anyway, how was your meeting?”

              “Fruitful but I won’t be seeing him again.”

              “As I said before, be careful. Enjoy your holiday.”

              “Thanks, Peter, I will.” The line went dead. He leaned back and picked up a day-old copy of The Times and began the crossword.

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Frankie stroked Linda’s hair. “You’re not like me. I’m a lesbian and I enjoy being free to express my feelings.”

              Linda Liu shrugged. “I’m bisexual when needs must. With sex you can control weak men. They will crawl across broken glass for a blow job if it’s good. You can extract information and make a deal of money. I enjoy sex with you but I make a lot of money from men.”

              “I tried it with a man once. Three minutes he lasted then rolled over and went to sleep.”

              “The trick is, Frankie, to keep them awake by demanding more, ride them as you would a horse. It makes them believe they’re so good. Scream when you reach a fake climax and they’ll beg like a hungry dog. I agree most men are ‘wham-bam-thank-you,’ but now and then one comes along and hits the bull’s eye.”

              “Each to their own. I live for now and love your hands touching, caressing my body in the right places.”

              “Just my hands?”

              “Turn the light out and shut up.”

Part Two

Chapter One

London,  England

Dressed in a blue pin-striped suit, Charles Haskell, an arms dealer and security consultant, relaxed in the bar of The Tower Hotel. The fingers of his right hand stroked the jagged scar on his face. He sipped a large brandy while perusing a copy of the insurance report relating to the hijacking of MV Goliath. At five minutes to seven he stared out of the window. A smile spread across his face when on the stroke of seven a black cab arrived. A man jumped out and dashed into the building. Tom Scott was a short, fat man with an unhealthy paleness to his skin which made him look older than his sixty-five years.

              Charles turned as he entered and shook hands with Tom. Charles was approaching the same age but appeared fitter and stronger.

              “Long time,” said Tom.

              “And a different world.”

              “Have you booked a table?”

              “Better than that, I’ve booked a suite where we can discuss this little problem of yours.”

              Tom shrugged. “As the firm’s paying, the food better be good.”

              “The Beef Wellington from this chef is to die for. I’ve ordered our meal for eight. If I’m wrong, I’ll settle the account when we leave.”

              Tom shook his head. “You’ve never paid for a meal in your life.”

              He chuckled. “I’m sure I did once but there’s always a first time.”

              They took the lift to the fifth floor and strolled to their room. Charles opened the door and the two men entered. Near the window overlooking the Thames a table was set for two.

              Charles checked the time when someone knocked on the door. “Spot on. I prefer to chat while enjoying a good meal.”

              The waiter set out the dishes containing the meal and poured two glasses of red wine. “Will that be all, gentlemen?”

              Charles gave the waiter a twenty pound tip. “Make sure we are not disturbed.”

              He smiled. “I guarantee privacy, sir.”

              As the door closed Tom laughed. “Bet he believes we’re a couple of uphill gardeners”

              “You’re not my type and privacy has kept me ahead of the game for the last thirty years. Many people in London want to know what I’m up to. When the deal is done I don’t care, so start talking."

                “As you know, my organisation operates some of the biggest tankers in the world. They’re modern, fast and function with minimum crew. You’ve read the report, we lost one.”