The Attic Room: A psychological thriller - Huber Linda - Страница 38
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Slowly, she punched out the number and listened as the ring tone pringed in her ear. Seven, eight, nine times. Twenty times. There was nobody there. Tired tears of frustration filled her eyes and she slammed down the receiver, then on the spur of the moment she ripped the page with Robert’s number from her address book and tore it into tiny pieces. He was gone from her life. Forget him, Claire.
Easier said than done.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Helplessness. The sensation fluttered round Nina’s head while nausea dragged at her gut. She was stuck in a car with her newly-found cousin, who was in the middle of a major breakdown – what the shit was she going to do? Her stomach cramping, she tried to steady herself, clutching the door and the side of her seat and hardly daring to breathe as Paul drove on, swerving round corners and flooring the accelerator on the straight. The engine howled and Nina was thrown from left to right, the seatbelt tearing repeatedly into the tender skin of her neck. They were in another housing estate now, quite a long way from the first one, and she hadn’t recognised any of the places they’d passed through. The streets became progressively dingier and more litter-strewn, and Nina breathed out as Paul was forced to slow down. At last he pulled up in front of a neglected semi, beer cans scattered across the pavement in front of the house. A fresh wave of dread broke over Nina as he switched the engine off and turned to her.
‘This isn’t a nice place, Nina, and I’m sorry. But no one’s going to think of looking for us here so it’s the best place to be.’
His voice was pitched higher than normal and it cracked on the last word. Nina’s throat closed in terror. She’d heard that voice before… The blackmailer on the phone was Paul. Shit, hell… Paul had taunted her and threatened Naomi… What on earth was he trying to do? She clenched her fists to stop her hands shaking.
With growing horror she realised there had never been a bomb, or a phone call from the police. It had been Paul, getting her – and the supposed money – out of the house and away with him. He must have made the call to John Moore’s phone from his mobile, right in front of her stupid nose while she was sitting on the sofa texting bloody smilies to Naomi. And then he’d gone out when Sabine answered the call… Nina bit back a moan. He must have hurt Sabine, knocked her out, or worse. And oh God – no one knew where they were… What a gullible cow she was, she’d believed every word he told her. But why was he doing this?
Paul undid both their seatbelts. ‘We’re going inside – and you’d better be quiet about it. Remember my gun.’
Nina said nothing, concentrating for the moment on not having hysterics. She had to get a grip; be in control – but how impossible that seemed now. Paul was waiting by the passenger seat door, and Nina was unable to prevent the shudder when he grasped her elbow and steered her towards the house. She stared round wildly, but no help was at hand. Apart from a little gang of hooded teenagers lingering raucously at the corner about thirty yards away, the street was empty of people.
‘Paul, please. Let’s talk. I’m sure can work something out.’ She tried her best to sound understanding and firm but it was impossible, her voice was shaking. He must know how afraid she was – hell, look at the expression on his face. What a bastard; he was enjoying her fear. That was what those madmen who abducted people got off on, wasn’t it? – the feeling of power over their victim.
He didn’t answer, and all she could do was stand and watch as he opened the shabby front door, revealing a narrow hallway. A stained and smelly carpet covered the floor and the walls were painted what had probably started out magnolia, but time and touch and cigarette smoke had transformed them into patchy grey and beige. Stairs, the carpeting worn bare in the centre of each tread, rose into darkness on the left, and the stench of poverty and squalor was rife.
Horrified, Nina stumbled as he pushed her inside. ‘Shit, what kind of place is this? Do you live here?’
His eyes were shining brightly, and yes, those were tears she saw there… maybe she could still get out of this. Hope swelled painfully in her head.
‘Of course not.’ The indignation in his voice would have been funny in other circumstances. He hustled her down the unlit passageway. ‘This is all your fault. You’ve ruined everything. I have spent months, Nina, years, doing research, looking for those scumbag paedos, and it was going so well until you arrived and got the police involved. I’ve met a lot of – undesirable people, shall we say, and this place belongs to one of them. Oh, don’t worry. He’s in prison. So we’ll be safe enough in the meantime and more importantly, no one will find us.’
Paul pushed her into the kitchen at the back of the house and Nina felt a hysterical urge to laugh. She hadn’t been impressed by John Moore’s kitchen, but this one was ten million times worse. It was indescribably filthy and apart from an ancient-looking gas cooker there were no appliances at all. A thick, pungent smell hung about the place and made her eyes water. It obviously hadn’t been lived in properly for a very long time. Paul pointed to a greasy wooden chair and Nina sat, shuddering. Her legs had lost their strength again.
Paul laughed mirthlessly. ‘Not quite up to your standards, is it?’ he said, the sneer in his voice increasing Nina’s fear.
She looked at him bleakly, unsure how to reply. This kitchen wasn’t up to anyone’s standards. Normal people didn’t live like this.
‘Paul – please tell me why you’re doing this. What do you mean, you were looking for paedos?’
Keep him talking, try to get him back on your side, Nina. It was as if her own voice was inside her head now, Christ, was she going mad too? But if he didn’t tell her there was no way she could help either of them. Hell, she didn’t even know if she wanted to help him after this, but she had to help herself because she had a daughter out there waiting for her. Naomi, Naomi baby, it’s going to be all right, please, it must be all right…
He slumped into a second chair and sat staring at her. ‘You really don’t know what you’ve done, do you?’ he said, his voice a strange mixture of regret and contempt.
Suddenly Nina was angry. ‘No, I don’t. From where I’m sitting I’ve done everything right. I was trying to cooperate with the police when I came up against what seemed to be criminal activity. So tell me what I did wrong.’
He was sitting with his hands in the pockets of his jerkin, but now he leaned towards her, his expression malevolent. Nina shrank back into her chair. She would have to be more careful what she said, it would be a mistake to anger him more than she had already. She listened, horror growing inside her as he spoke.
‘I’ve found them, Nina. Most of them. Those dirty old men who paid our dads for – us. I was made redundant last year and I went to your dad for money – I reckoned he owed it to me – and after a little persuasion he gave me what I needed. But it started me thinking, remembering what happened in that house. Those filthy pigs… so I started to look for them. Your dad - ’
Nina recoiled at his last words, he said them with such venom, and he was doing it to hurt her. She could tell by the way he watched her response and smiled briefly. There was no way she could keep the anguish from her face.
‘- your dad gave me some names, after a little more persuasion, and I looked them up. And you know what? All they wanted was to save their own disgusting skins. Every single one of them. It was child’s play to get money from them, but that wasn’t the best bit, oh no – I got to see them squirm. They were terrified their dirty little secret was going to come out, and they were all prepared to give me more names as well as hard cash. But I haven’t finished, Nina, there are two more I definitely remember doing vile things to me, and I haven’t found them yet. And you, stupid interfering madam that you are, have upset the whole bloody thing.’
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