Lisette Rivers & the Crumbling Mansion Affair
by
Brian Sands
Carter Blue Ice Affair,Mr Irony
Chapter Nine: Conversations with Number Four
The car moved off slowly. Lisette felt the rocking motion as its wheels negotiated ruts in the path it was following, from somewhere at the side of the old mansion, she reasoned. In a short time the surface became moderately smoother but, as the vehicle gathered speed, the bumping and jolting told Lisette that they must be on the side lane. She concentrated hard, trying to etch the impressions of movement into her mind. This served a double purpose: to help make it possible to retrace the route from the crumbling mansion to the hideout where she was being taken, and to keep her mind off the cramped and claustrophobic discomfort in which she lay. The ropes bit into her limbs and body, the gag choked and smothered her at the same time. Lisette wondered how much air remained in the narrow suitcase. That depended upon how airtight it was between lid and flanges. She hoped that the journey would not take long. From the way her captors had spoken, they were taking her to a place that was still in the district.
Abruptly, Lisette became aware that their progress was smoother. She must have been semi-conscious not to register at once that they were now on a major road. How much longer? Her breathing was shallow but somehow there was sufficient air to make life viable, as long as she did not panic and hyperventilate. Lisette had enough experience of being bound and sealed in narrow spaces to steel her mind against hysteria. Arguing like an ancient Stoic philosopher, she predicted that the journey must end at some point. All she had to do was to grit her teeth upon the gag and wait out the minutes or, if the worst was to take place, hours.
No sooner did she have those thoughts than Lisette felt the vehicle turn suddenly – to the right it seemed – and the bumping and swaying over an uneven surface recommenced. From Weatherstone Hall to a main road then a rough road. In only a few minutes we’ve moved from one countryside property to another. They bumped along the track for perhaps a minute then came to a halt. Lisette waited with baited breath, wondering what would happen next. She wanted desperately to be let out of the tight suitcase and hoped that they had reached their destination. It seemed that they had. She felt he suitcase move. She was upended and the sickening swaying of the suitcase began again as it was carried. Another brief moment of semi-consciousness followed, when Lisette felt the suitcase placed down upon its side. The catches of the locks clicked open. The lid was raised and the suitcase tilted spilling a bundle of trussed silken young woman out onto a carpet. Lisette lay still upon a shag pile surface, dazed and helpless. The blindfold and the gag had not shifted during her journey, but at least she could breathe.
“So this is the little baggage! Who is she?” It was a woman’s voice. Lisette thought she had heard it before, but where?
“Who she is doesn’t concern you. She knows too much. She’s seen us. She’s to be disposed of on the next tide.” The voice was that of Brick Simenov.
“I … see,” replied the woman thoughtfully. “Are you sure you’ve thought this through?”
“What do you mean?”
“Our business is coke. There’s nothing in the job description that mentions murder.”
“Are you questioning Number Two’s orders?” Simenov’s voice dropped dangerously.
“No … No, just clarifying in my mind this new turn of events.”
“It doesn’t have to involve you, except for holding her until we’re ready to leave on the tide.”
“That’s easily done,” the woman answered coldly. “But why bring her to me in the first place? Surely you have good hidey-holes for this young woman. She doesn’t take up much space.”
“Too dangerous to keep her in the old mansion with the guests in and out all the time, and that nosey little woman poking around who’s just inherited the place.”
“No to mention shooting Spencer … Couldn’t you have kept him quiet some other way, bought him off? He was only interested in what he could get out of his property deals.”
“Your charming Spencer Forbes decided to try a little blackmail. Anyway, we were acting for Number One.”
“Seems you can’t make a move without Number One says so, who’s not even in this country.”
“Mind your lip! Number One won’t be pleased with your insubordination.”
“And you’ll go running like a good puppy-dog to tell him eh? None of you have the guts to do anything right. You didn’t have to kill Spencer, and you made a real hash of it when you did.”
There was a palpable shift in Simenov’s voice, his tone becoming conciliatory. “I won’t tell anyone about your feelings, Regina. I’ll keep you out of it as far as possible, okay?”
“That sounds better. I’ll keep my side of the deal as long as you keep yours.”
“I’ll leave her in your hands then. We’ll be back for her late tomorrow, maybe the day after. I’ll ring you first … Make sure the girl stays blindfolded so she won’t see your face, and gagged in case you have unexpected visitors.”
“She’ll be very quiet, don’t worry.”
There was a pause. The voices continued but the two people were walking from the room and Lisette did not catch their words. She lay quietly. Playing possum was paying off. She now knew a little more about the gang.
I’m in Number Four’s house and I think I know who it is. Their Number One, the head of the gang, is not in this country but perhaps somewhere in Europe? They’re smuggling cocaine. But what part does this woman, Number Four, play in the business? Is she part of the route through which the drugs are funnelled? But from their conversation there was no hint of that. No, she has some other role.
Lisette sighed and shifted uncomfortably in her bonds. I hope Sunny followed the car and is watching. I want to get out of these ropes.
It was all very well being a Trojan horse but Lisette felt that she had had enough excitement for one day. What could Sunny do? She could get the police. She could wait until the woman went out on some errand, then sneak in and free her. What if she lost the car when she was following us? That would mean Lisette was quite alone, trussed up, gagged and blindfolded, and with no immediate hope of rescue.
Lisette heard the sounds of the woman’s footsteps returning. She became aware that her new captor was standing over her.
“That’s the last of him for awhile, so let’s see what you look like. You can stop playing possum.”
Lisette was rolled onto her back and propped up against an item of furniture that felt soft. She guessed it was an armchair or a couch. Fingers worked at the back of her head, the blindfold loosened and was drawn away. She blinked against the light cast by several electric lamps set in brackets around the red-panelled wall of a sumptuous living room furnished with armchairs and a long couch upholstered in plush red velvet, the windows screened by matching curtains that fell from ceiling to floor. In the soft pink glow of the lamps the room felt like the interior of a bordello. Lisette looked up at the woman. She and her captor recognised each other at once.
“I guessed as much,” said the woman softly. “You’re the pretty young lady I intruded upon back at Swallowtail Cottage calling yourself Lizzy Poole. I would have known straight away if they had used that name instead of, aha, your real name, Miss Lisa Rivers. I see you remember me, and my noble pony stallion Bonzo. But I imagine neither of us were expecting to meet again under quite these circumstances.”
Regina Ecuestre stepped from one side of Lisette to the other, looking her over critically. She was elegant in bone jodhpurs, black riding boots of soft leather, and a spotless cream silk shirt.
“Let’s see, I think the first thing we’ll do is to get most of those cords off you. They’re not necessary and they look far too tight to be worn comfortably for long. I’ll wager they stopped you kicking about in that suitcase though.”
Lisette expected Regina to cut the cords trussing her arms to her back and folding her into a hog tie, but the horsewoman instead sat on the edge of the couch and worked at the knots with strong supple fingers. After several minutes the thin ropes fell away from Lisette’s arms and torso and the woman turned her attention to the cords binding her thighs and knees.
“That’s better. A secure tying-up hand and foot is essential of course, but that’s all that’s needed. Now, let’s see what else we can do.” Regina hunkered down in front of Lisette and ruffled her hair. “Would you like me to take off the gag, Sweetie?” Lisette nodded earnestly. “Silly question really,” the woman continued as she reached for the knot at the back of Lisette’s ear and unfastened the dishcloth. “It isn’t very nice to be gagged, especially for a long time.” She searched under Lisette’s hair at the back of her neck for the second knot that held the silk scarf. “The silk’s welded itself to your face. It can’t be any too comfortable … there!”
With the small cry of triumph, Regina Ecuestre gently eased the scarf and sodden linen napkin from Lisette’s mouth, tucking the scarf away in a hip pocket. Lisette inclined her head and tried to say “thank you,” but all that came out was a whisper and a fit of coughing.
“People who see heroines tied and gagged in movies don’t usually appreciate how a gag really works,” said Regina chattily. “The gag can muffle and impede speech in the short term, but girls with lusty voices are still able to make a good deal of noise, again in the short term.”
Regina Ecuestre held a pannikin to Lisette’s lips and allowed a thin trickle of water into her mouth. Lisette drank slowly and gratefully.
Charlie’s Angels
Regina continued. “But in the longer term it’s a different matter. A gag, properly applied, will dry the mouth out after twenty minutes or so, and if it is tied tightly enough it will also restrict the ability to move her jaws. Even a flimsy piece of material will do to hold her mouth open, and having to breath in and out through her mouth will dry out her palate and throat. After half an hour or more her jaws will seize up and her voice become a mere whisper, like yours. So, the longer she remains gagged the quieter she is forced to become. That is what was beginning to happen to you, Miss Rivers.”
“Your … lecture … comes from experience?” Lisette asked dryly.
“Oh yes, Sweetie. I trained in a very intensive counter-terrorist program for more than a year, volunteered to play the part of a hostage. It was all very real believe me! Part of the agreement said that I couldn’t change my mind and pull out of the program. Once I was taken as a hostage that was that. Well, when you’re tied up there’s nothing you can do about it, is there? I spent a week in the cell of an old prison bound up most of the time, sometimes the same way you were, hog tied, and gagged too. For one twenty-four hour period I was laced into a straightjacket with my arms behind me, my legs strapped up in a sheath, gagged so I could make only the smallest sound, and with my ears plugged and a thick leather blindfold. I had to spend almost a week in hospital to recover from the ordeal.”
“It sounds like a very extreme organization,” said Lisette, thankful that they did not have those sorts of programs in the DORFIS group.
“A strictly private security firm,” Regina explained. “I left them soon after, and I heard four months later that they had gone into receivership, and two of their key executives had left the country, with the funds they’d embezzled of course.”
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“So that you’ll understand why I’m being easy on you. I went freelance after that. Would you believe I thought this gang were exporting diamonds, a girl’s best friend and all that, and it wasn’t until much later that I discovered it was drugs? You don’t just walk out on a group like that.”
“What are you going to do with me?”
“I haven’t decided … I have my own agenda in this affair. I want to track down those bastards who ran off with the company’s funds. One of them is the man who sealed me up in that straightjacket and everything. And I can’t do it if I’m on the wrong side of the cell bars.”
“But these people aren’t the company embezzlers. They’re drug importers, a completely different gang!”
“That’s part of the problem. I think there’s a connection of some sort between them, but I haven’t been able to pin it down.”
“And if you do? Find a connection that is?”
“I’ll tell the police about the drug runners. Then I’ll be free to go after those men.”
“It sounds very dangerous.”
“It is, Sweetie, and you’re best out of it, if you don’t mind me saying. The problem is, what to do with you?”
“You could let me go.”
“Not as easy as you think. If you’re freed, you’ll bring the police down onto our necks and my chances of finding that old trail to the embezzlers will be dashed. On the other hand, I don’t want anything nasty to happen to you.”
They remained silent a moment, the two women wrapped in their own thoughts. Regina Ecuestre visibly shook herself and, having made a decision, began to untie Lisette’s ankles. When they were free she took Lisette under an arm and helped her to her feet. In her other hand she took up the ropes that had bound Lisette.
They walked towards the door. Regina spoke as though she was thinking aloud. “I’ll hide you away and tell them that you’ve escaped. That will send them into a panic. They’ll have to make arrangements to disappear, and that means they’ll contact any European partners. If I can find out who they are it might solve my problem. Then I can really tell the police, let you free, and go after my embezzler and torturer.”
They walked out of the house and across the yard to a low stable of rough-hewn stone. Regina stopped a moment to pat Bonzo on the nose then escorted Lisette to the end of the building and into a narrow room that was filled with leather harnesses and other assorted equine and farming equipment. Regina Ecuestre cleared away a tangle of mouldy carpet that lay in the only relatively clear area to reveal a trapdoor. With Lisette supported in front of Regina, they descended a short flight of sturdy wooden steps into a dark cellar. She touched a switch in the wall and a small 40watt light bulb glowed dimly.
The tiny area was clean, and surprisingly warm. An empty wooden wine rack filled one narrow wall from floor to ceiling. The wall opposite had received several experimental coats of paint in different shades of blue superimposed upon the original whitewash, now peeling and grimy, until the painter had given up. It was against this wall that the woman had Lisette sit.
Quickly and with practised hands she bound Lisette’s ankles again and, taking the rope that had been used before to truss and hogtie her, tied her arms back at the elbows and trussed them with three turns of cord, two about her waist and one across her upper body. When the cord had been pulled tight, Lisette knew that she would not be getting out of it in a hurry. A lot of cord lay unused on the floor beside her.
“I’ll check on you from time to time, and bring you food and water,” said Regina. “It’s not comfortable, but the ropes shouldn’t torture you – not much anyway – and you’ll be safe from those men and out of mischief as far as I’m concerned. Now I want you to take another drink of water. It will be your last for some time.”
The water canteen was unscrewed and held to Lisette’s lips. She drank dutifully. The canteen was re-stoppered and put to one side. From her hip pocket Regina Ecuestre drew the silk scarf that had been part of Lisette’s multiple gags and brought it over the young woman’s head. The scarf still had the knot tied in its centre.
“Open wide, Sweetie.”
“You don’t need to do this,” said Lisette huskily. “I’ll be quiet, I promise.”
Regina laughed softly, but not unkindly. “I know you may not intend to cry out, but you’re going to be tied up in here for several hours at the very least, and you may easily start to panic. It’s for your own good. Mine too. If that man Simenov came around here and you screamed, it would give the whole game away. Chances are that wouldn’t happen. But then, chance is a strange thing. I am not going to trust in chance.”
Lisette parted her lips resignedly. The small knot of silk was rolled over her bottom teeth into her mouth and the ends of the scarf were tied at the back of her neck under her hair, a little to one side. The gag was drawn deep enough to make it almost impossible to slip off without assistance but, when the knot was doubled, it was secure without being so tight as to cut her cheeks or the corners of her mouth.
Regina was not yet finished however. From a side pocket she drew a neatly folded pad of white cotton, fine textured. When it was shaken out it proved to be a triangular first aid bandage. The woman brought the triangular point to the centre of the long base and folded it over twice more to make a broad bandage. Lisette half expected it to be a blindfold. Instead, it was tied over her mouth to supplement the gag. The knot was made a lot tighter than the silk scarf between her jaws, and doubled at the back of her neck over her hair. The layers of cotton, although of fine material, moulded very tightly over her lips and chin. Lisette shook her head from side to side and tried to move her jaw, but the covering gag stayed in place.
Genesis,Ruth Diaz
“I’m sorry, Sweetie, I truly am,” said Regina. She rose to her feet and dusted specks of fine grit from her jodhpurs. “You’ll be safe here, as I said. Try not to struggle - it won’t do you any good. Even if you get free, the trapdoor will be padlocked and there’s no other way out of this cellar.”
Regina turned away reluctantly. She paused at the foot of the steps, gave Lisette a wry moue, mounted the steps and was gone. Lisette heard the click of a padlock. True to her word, Regina Ecuestre had doubly secured her prisoner.
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