clothes from the children’s bedrooms and ran down to the garage to put them into the washer. It was then the front doorbell rang.
Lucy looked at her watch and sighed. “God she’s early, I’ve not even got my tracksuit on,” she commented to herself as she went to open the front door.
A man, around six feet three, was standing there when she pulled open the front door, it was Janssen.
“You Grant’s wife?” he asked.
“Yes…,” she replied slowly with some hesitance.
“Where is he?”
She frowned. “Excuse me, who are you and why do you want to know?”
Janssen suddenly moved forward, pushing the door with a great deal of force, she stumbled back in surprise. But by then he was inside and had slammed the door closed. She screamed, but was silenced quickly by a blow to the head.
“Don’t piss me about, just tell me where he is, or I’ll beat the shit out of you,” Janssen drawled with little or no compassion in his voice.
“I don’t know where he is, but if you don’t leave my house I’ll call the police,” she answered bravely.
Janssen sighed then grabbed her long hair dragging her into the lounge and forcing her face down on the couch. Then he ripped open her one-piece exposing her back and bottom. Suddenly his face was inches from hers. She felt his other hand touch her bottom with something cold. “Listen, lady, we can do it the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is you tell me everything I want to know. The hard way, I turn you over and run this knife you can feel on your bottom from your throat to your fanny, and gut you like a pig. They’ll struggle to sew you up, if you survive, with all your guts hanging out, believe me. Or maybe I’ll just dig your eyes out with the tip of my knife, rest them on your cheeks, and pop them?”
Lucy was terrified, tears streaming down her face. “Please, I beg you, I’ve two children. I’ll tell you anything you want, even do what you want with me, but don’t use your knife.”
“Then tell me where that husband of yours is, before I start cutting,” he said quietly, at the same time sliding the flat of his knife up her body, letting it rest on the back of her neck.
“I didn’t lie. He read the paper two days ago about a girl called Karen, who was abducted. He thought she’d died in an accident. Then he just panicked believing she’d tell the police about him and he’d be sent to prison. He told me not to bother waiting for him, as he was going abroad and never coming back.”
Janssen remained still, looking down at Lucy. He knew when the truth was being told to him. This woman was terrified but she still might tell him less than the complete truth, if she wanted to protect her husband.
“Had he any money?”
She shook her head.
“Then where would he go for some? Has he a family, mother, father, sisters, brothers?” he asked.
“I’ve his parents’ address, his sister is married and lives in London but I only have her phone number, I don’t know her address,” she answered without delay, hoping he’d believe her about Grant’s sister which at least would give him time to leave the country.
He grinned, the oldest answer in the book. He was at his sister’s and she was trying to protect him. “You married women don’t learn do you? Still have some misplaced loyalty to your husband. Well lady, he’s not here, you’re alone naked and vulnerable. When I ask for the truth, I mean all the truth. What is his sister’s address?”
She said nothing.
At that moment she felt the tip of the knife start to prick her right buttock, as if a needle was injecting into the skin. Then as the skin would first resist a needle so it did with the knife, before finally giving, allowing the knife to enter her buttock. The sudden pain was intense. She wanted to scream, try to push him away, but face down she couldn’t get any strength in her arms to do it. Then he forced her face into the couch, so she couldn’t scream or breathe. Lucy
Lucy looked at her watch and sighed. “God she’s early, I’ve not even got my tracksuit on,” she commented to herself as she went to open the front door.
A man, around six feet three, was standing there when she pulled open the front door, it was Janssen.
“You Grant’s wife?” he asked.
“Yes…,” she replied slowly with some hesitance.
“Where is he?”
She frowned. “Excuse me, who are you and why do you want to know?”
Janssen suddenly moved forward, pushing the door with a great deal of force, she stumbled back in surprise. But by then he was inside and had slammed the door closed. She screamed, but was silenced quickly by a blow to the head.
“Don’t piss me about, just tell me where he is, or I’ll beat the shit out of you,” Janssen drawled with little or no compassion in his voice.
“I don’t know where he is, but if you don’t leave my house I’ll call the police,” she answered bravely.
Janssen sighed then grabbed her long hair dragging her into the lounge and forcing her face down on the couch. Then he ripped open her one-piece exposing her back and bottom. Suddenly his face was inches from hers. She felt his other hand touch her bottom with something cold. “Listen, lady, we can do it the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is you tell me everything I want to know. The hard way, I turn you over and run this knife you can feel on your bottom from your throat to your fanny, and gut you like a pig. They’ll struggle to sew you up, if you survive, with all your guts hanging out, believe me. Or maybe I’ll just dig your eyes out with the tip of my knife, rest them on your cheeks, and pop them?”
Lucy was terrified, tears streaming down her face. “Please, I beg you, I’ve two children. I’ll tell you anything you want, even do what you want with me, but don’t use your knife.”
“Then tell me where that husband of yours is, before I start cutting,” he said quietly, at the same time sliding the flat of his knife up her body, letting it rest on the back of her neck.
“I didn’t lie. He read the paper two days ago about a girl called Karen, who was abducted. He thought she’d died in an accident. Then he just panicked believing she’d tell the police about him and he’d be sent to prison. He told me not to bother waiting for him, as he was going abroad and never coming back.”
Janssen remained still, looking down at Lucy. He knew when the truth was being told to him. This woman was terrified but she still might tell him less than the complete truth, if she wanted to protect her husband.
“Had he any money?”
She shook her head.
“Then where would he go for some? Has he a family, mother, father, sisters, brothers?” he asked.
“I’ve his parents’ address, his sister is married and lives in London but I only have her phone number, I don’t know her address,” she answered without delay, hoping he’d believe her about Grant’s sister which at least would give him time to leave the country.
He grinned, the oldest answer in the book. He was at his sister’s and she was trying to protect him. “You married women don’t learn do you? Still have some misplaced loyalty to your husband. Well lady, he’s not here, you’re alone naked and vulnerable. When I ask for the truth, I mean all the truth. What is his sister’s address?”
She said nothing.
At that moment she felt the tip of the knife start to prick her right buttock, as if a needle was injecting into the skin. Then as the skin would first resist a needle so it did with the knife, before finally giving, allowing the knife to enter her buttock. The sudden pain was intense. She wanted to scream, try to push him away, but face down she couldn’t get any strength in her arms to do it. Then he forced her face into the couch, so she couldn’t scream or breathe. Lucy
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