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“What the fuck?” I mutter. “How did she manage that?” Our boundary is supposed to be secure.
“The ivy, boss.”
“Get it cut back,” I snarl.Bloody hell!“Where is she now?”
“Downstairs,” Moses informs me. “We locked her up until you decide what’s to be done with her.”
“Has she said anything?” I’m already striding across the parquet floor towards the door leading to the basement. As well as storage, we have several cells down there, and an interrogation suite. We already have one prisoner in residence, and I suspect I’ll be making even more use of the facilities.
“No, boss,” Moses replies, matching my pace. “Not that she had much chance, like.”
I descend the steep stairs and march along the underground corridor, past the wine racks and weapons stores, until I reach the four steel doors behind which we hold prisoners who are not to see the light of day again unless we decide otherwise.
“It’s getting quite crowded down here,” I observe, pausing at the first cell. I open the viewing panel to check the prisoner within. Malevolent eyes meet mine, and I’m treated to a rapid-fire string of Russian expletives. I know some of the words, you tend to pick things up in my line of work, but most of it is lost on me.
“Good day to you, too, arsehole.” I slam the panel shut and continue on my way.
Marlon Logan has been my ‘guest’ for a couple of months now. Ethan is probably intending to kill him eventually because he was one of the men who robbed our warehouse a year or so ago. Examples need to be made. But there’s a possibility he’s linked to other enemies of ours and could provide clues to trace back to them. Or her. The name we’ve been able to unearth is The Widow. But we’ve no idea yet who she is or where we might find her. As long as Marlon might be useful, he can rot down here.
“She’s in the end one,” Moses says, in answer to my unspoken question.
I reach the door indicated and flick open the viewing grille. It’s pitch-dark inside. The single light bulb is activated from outside. I hit the switch to flood the cell with harsh white illumination, then peer in.
She’s lying on the floor, curled in a ball. I suspect that’s exactly where she landed when Moses brought her down here. Her hands are secured behind her back with a cable tie, and a rough hessian hood covers her head. Even if the light had been left on, she couldn’t have seen anything of her surroundings. Not that there’s much to see. Our cells are deliberately devoid of any furniture or fittings apart from a solid stone bench built into one wall. We don’t provide for any creature comforts. We find it helps to concentrate the mind.
“Is she conscious?” I ask.
Moses shrugs. “As far as I know.”
Right, then. I gesture to him to unlock the door. The lock mechanism grates as it operates, startling her. She wriggles up to a sitting position and uses her heels to scramble backwards, away from the sound. I enter the room and observe her in silence for several moments before nodding to Moses, his signal to leave us and lock the door again.
“Who…who’s there?”
Her voice is broken, trembling. She’s been crying, that much is obvious.
I don’t answer straight away. Best to let her sweat for a while, let her own imaginings do my job for me. She’ll frighten herself much more than I could. Well, maybe notmuchmore, but it’ll do for a start.
“Who’s there?” she whimpers again. “Why don’t you say something?”
I lean against the wall beside the door and regard her without speaking. She’s of average height, I’d say. Slim build, and her accent suggests English rather than Scottish. Her head swings from side to side as though she’s searching the darkness for some glimpse of me.
“Please,” she begins, “if there’s anyone there…”
“Oh, there is,” I growl, taking a step forward.
She lets out a startled gasp and cowers away from the sound of my voice. Unfortunately for her, she’s reached the wall and there’s nowhere else to go.
I take a couple more steps until I’m standing over her, then I drop to my haunches.
“Do you want me to take this off?” I tug gently at the hood.
“Yes,” she replies.
“Say please.”
She hesitates, then, “Please take the hood off.”
“I’ll want something in return.”
