The Crime Trade

33

Tino lay on the bed in his holiday apartment for a long time, his face and ego badly bruised. He could still smell Judy Flanagan’s perfume on the pillow. It was strange, considering that for most of the time she’d been here she’d been asleep, but he genuinely missed her.

That first evening, when she’d still been conscious, they’d had some fun together. He’d started chatting to her in the cafe where she worked as a waitress, and they’d got on so well that she’d readily agreed to go on a date with him. He’d then taken her to Garfunkel’s restaurant in the West End, and a local pub, before heading back to his place for sex. She’d been good, too: enthusiastic, adventurous, admiring of his ample charms. Hygienic and nice-smelling as well, which wasn’t always the case with amateurs. In fact, they’d done it for several hours before finally it had been time to do what he’d been ordered, and administer the drugs that bastard police officer Mark had given him.

He’d almost decided not to do it, knowing that he could have been getting himself in a lot more trouble than he was in already (this was, after all, a kidnap), but fear, and the desire to avoid complete humiliation, had driven him on. Perhaps, he’d reasoned, if he did what Mark told him then that would be the end of it, and he could return to Holland and start again, putting the events of the past few days down to experience. But as the hours had turned into days, and he’d given Judy more and more of the drugs, so the realization had dawned on him that, rather than saving him from prison, Mark was making his situation ever more dangerous.

He’d felt guilty, too, awful that he’d got a pretty young girl to trust him and then betrayed her so cruelly, drugging her when she was defenceless. He’d tried to make up for it, talking to her in her sleep, telling her how sorry he was, trying as hard as he could to make her stay with him as comfortable as possible by washing her twice daily, and always making sure she had plenty of water. And now he’d betrayed her again when he’d had the chance to protect her. Who knew where Mark was going to take her now. To her death? It was possible. Why not? He’d lied about everything else. She’d called for him to help her, and when he’d finally tried he’d been beaten like a dog for his troubles. Humiliated, like he’d been back in Holland. Life had once seemed so good. Now it was dealing him a cruel hand.

He continued to lie there, cursing the world. Occasionally weeping, which angered him still more. And with Judy Flanagan never far from his thoughts. Judy, who might be on her way to her death. He couldn’t let it happen. For once, it was time to do something good.

He had to find Mark, to stop him. But how could he do that? He was all alone in a city of strangers, all of whom seemed treacherous and keen to do him harm.

One man might know. One man might be able to help him find Mark.

It might save a life. He thought of Judy being choked to death by that vicious little policeman and the thought brought on an angry flush. But still he didn’t move. Instead, he debated what to do in his mind, then debated it again. And again.

Finally, when he could stand the guilt and torture no more, he swallowed his principles, rose from the bed and went to phone Trevor Murk.