Bella

Chapter Nineteen

Three days passed with unbearable slowness. They listened to every news bulletin, but there was no mention of the kidnapping. Even Bella began to feel everyone had abandoned them. One of her greatest worries was stopping Chrissie from cracking up under the strain. But, in fact, it gave her something to do, fussing over the younger girl, seeing she ate something, keeping her cheerful. They talked incessantly, Chrissie babbling on about her childhood in South America, and about Rupert, and inevitably about Lazlo, Bella trying desperately not to appear too interested whenever his name was mentioned.

Now that Chrissie had lost so much weight, and her face had thinned down, she reminded Bella of him so poignantly. They had the same cheekbones, the same impassivity, the same smile that would light up a blacked-out city when suddenly they were amused.

On the second morning, the gunmen took Bella into the living-room and made her record a ridiculous tape to be sent to Lazlo and the family, begging them to raise the money as soon as possible, and not to contact the police. She had to read it over and over again, until they were satisfied with the stress and the timing.

‘And at the end, say “I love you”,’ said Ricardo.

‘I won’t,’ said Bella.

Ricardo held the gun to her temple, ‘I would if I were you.’

‘I love you very much,’ whispered Bella.

‘That should get El Gatto to pull his finger out,’ said Ricardo.

Chrissie, who’d just been brought in to make her tape, overheard Bella’s last remark.

‘What the hell’s going on?’ she hissed to Bella as soon as they were locked up together again. ‘You’ve been pulling a fast one all the time. Why did you say you loved Rupert just now. You are still after him.’

Bella found herself blushing. ‘I’m not. The gunmen have got completely the wrong end of the stick. For some reason they’re convinced Lazlo and I are mad about each other.’

Chrissie’s mouth opened and shut, and then she started to laugh incredulously. ‘You and Lazlo! God, they must be thick. If they only knew how much you loathe each other.’

Bella didn’t wince. She was making great strides in self-control, but she found it very difficult not to react during the next day when Chrissie kept saying, ‘You and Lazlo,’ and going off into fits of laughter.

Chrissie, now she had Bella to protect her, slept a great deal. She had so many shocks in the last week to recover from. This left Bella plenty of time to observe her captors.

The smooth man in the light blue suit had left. He was probably, Bella decided, some henchman, fairly high up in the Rodriquez empire. Five others remained: Ricardo, the thug with the bulging muscles and the soft oily voice, Diego, the tall blond one with the gentle hands and voice, Carlos, stocky and dark with a beard, the very thin young boy, Pablo, with the missing finger, who never said anything, and, finally, Eduardo, the tall dark one with the air of authority, who seemed to be in charge of the operation. All of them, except Pablo, wore wedding rings.

There were always two of them on guard, one at the bottom of the stairs by the front door, one outside Bella and Chrissie’s door. At night, a guard stayed in their room with a gun ready across his knee.

Ricardo was the most unpleasant. For long periods he’d be quiet, then suddenly get explosive and violently argumentative. Nor did she like the way he stared hungrily at Chrissie.

Diego, on the other hand, was very kind to them. One day, when she was crying, he got out a handkerchief and wiped her eyes. And often, when she got aches and pains from sleeping on the floor, he would rub her back for her. What really frightened her was the pity she frequently detected in his voice. He knows we’re going to be killed, she thought in terror.

Physically she felt she was falling to pieces. Her red and white dress was filthy. So was she. She imagined her skin getting covered in blackheads, her eyebrows growing like bushes from not being plucked, her teeth rotting because she couldn’t clean them. The stench in the room was terrible. She dreamed obsessively of Lazlo’s ivy green bathroom and soaking in hot scented water.

On the fourth night the gunmen started quarrelling amongst themselves. They had been drinking and she could hear them shouting in the room next door. She wished she could understand what they were saying. Chrissie could understand Spanish, but she was asleep.

At midnight Ricardo took over the watch from Diego. He reeked of brandy fumes and stumbled over a loose floorboard. Bella pretended to be asleep.

The shouting died down in the next room and, soon, all was deathly quiet. Bella opened half an eye. In the half light, the gun gleamed across Ricardo’s knee. Chrissie turned over and moaned in her sleep, her black hair flopped over her face, the top button of her black dress was undone, showing the marble whiteness of her breasts.

Ricardo’s breathing became heavier, as suddenly he got up, stepped over Bella, and went towards the bed. Through half-shut eyes she saw him gazing down at Chrissie’s full, voluptuous body, then, very slowly, he put his hand out and began to stroke her face. Chrissie moved again in her sleep, edging towards him, like a dog cuddling up to its owner. Ricardo went on stroking her cheek, then his hand moved slowly down her neck and began to undo the buttons of her dress.

Bella was frozen with horror, unable to move. Suddenly Chrissie woke up and gave a little gasp of terror at the sight of the masked face. Next moment, Ricardo’s hand clamped over her mouth and then he was on top of her, clawing at her dress.

Bella reacted instantly.

‘Leave her alone,’ she yelled, picking up the broken chair, and the next moment she cracked it over Ricardo’s head. He gave a groan and collapsed on to the floor as Chrissie started screaming.

Bella was about to hit him again when the door burst open and in came Eduardo, Carlos and Pablo, all carrying guns.

‘Put that chair down,’ snarled Eduardo.

‘He was trying to rape me,’ sobbed Chrissie.

Bella, looking at the three gun barrels, dropped the chair. Pablo helped Ricardo to his feet.

‘The bitch went for me,’ said Ricardo, blood dripping from his head, and the next moment he’d turned on Bella, slapping her viciously across the face, back and forth, back and forth.

‘That’s enough,’ said Eduardo. ‘We’ll teach her a lesson another way.’ He gave instructions in Spanish over his shoulder to Pablo, who went out and came back with some rope with which he tied up both Bella and Chrissie.

They sat Bella down on a chair. She could feel the blood trickling down her cheeks where Ricardo’s ring had cut her.

Then Carlos came in with a towel and put it round Bella’s shoulders. Suddenly Bella remembered, terrified, how they’d cut off Paul Getty’s ear.

‘Oh please no!’ she whispered.

‘Shut up,’ said Eduardo, lifting up her hair.

They were all standing behind her.

‘No!’ screamed Chrissie, ‘please don’t hurt her.’ For she could see what Bella could not, that in Eduardo’s hand was a razor blade glinting evilly in the dim light.

Bella jerked her head forward.

‘Keep still,’ swore Eduardo. ‘Or you really will get hurt.’

She felt her hair being tugged backward, and sawed at, this way and that.

‘Oh, no!’ she wailed. ‘Not my hair.’

Eduardo ran the razor blade gently down her cheek.

‘Quiet,’ he said softly. ‘Or we really will give you something to remember us by.’

They cut her long mane off to a ragged three inches all over her head, short as a boy’s, shorter than most boys’, tugging and sawing till it lay in a heavy mass all over the floor.

Eduardo then told Pablo to gather it up.

‘We’ll parcel it up and send it to El Gatto. It might make him get off his arse about raising the dough,’ said Eduardo.

After that, they took her next door and stood her up, with her hands and feet still tied and her head in a noose of rope hanging from the ceiling.

‘Don’t fall asleep or the rope will snap your head off,’ said Ricardo, and he went out, locking the door.

Bella couldn’t stop crying. Her only irrational thought was that now she’d finally lost Lazlo. She remembered him saying he only liked girls with long hair, not that she’d ever had him. But now, with short hair, there was no possibility that he could love her.

For four nights sleep had eluded her. Now that she had somehow to keep from dropping off, she felt overwhelmed with exhaustion. She must keep awake. She tried to remember all the snatches of poetry she had ever known, ‘Farewell, thou art too dear for my possessing, And like enough thou know’st thy estimate. . How like a winter hath my absence been from thee. . How sad and bad and mad it was, then. But, how it was sweet. . Oh heart! oh heart! if he’d but turn his head. You’d know the folly of being comforted.’

The trouble with every poem was that it turned her thoughts back to Lazlo, making her re-live the moments they’d spent together. The last time she’d seen him with his back to the fireplace, very suntanned in that dark blue shirt, with strangely softened face, saying, ‘Come here,’ and her going to him in spite of being frightened, and then the telephone interrupting them just before she reached him.

Then she allowed her thoughts to stray into the dangerous fantasy of the telephone not ringing, of being in his arms and hearing all the lovely things he was saying, his voice husky with passion.

Oh God! she thought, it wasn’t the racehorses or the yachts or the fur coats she wanted from him, it was the understanding, the kindness beneath the mocking exterior, the protectiveness he displayed to his family and people he loved.

She started to cry again, overwhelmed by utter despair. Why not fall asleep and die? No! She pulled herself together. Chrissie had to be looked after. They’d got to get out.

Diego took over the watch at four o’clock and was obviously appalled by what he saw.

‘My God! What have those bastards done? Your beautiful, beautiful hair.’

He untied the rope round her neck and feet and hands, brushed away the hairs that were itching down her back, and gave her a cigarette.

‘What happened?’

She shrugged her shoulders.

‘Ricardo tried to rape Chrissie.’

‘And?’

‘I went for him with a chair.’

‘So he had to take his revenge. Is the kid all right?’

Bella nodded. ‘Physically anyway. Where are the others?’

‘Sleeping. I’ll make you a cup of tea.’

He went out, leaving his gun on a chair. Bella could have picked it up and used it, but she felt too tired; and that Diego trusting her was her one chance of getting out. He came back with hot water and soap and washed her face and hands for her. Then he brought her a cup of tea and a pear, which he cut into quarters and peeled for her. Bella had never tasted anything so delicious in her life.

‘You’re so good to me, Diego,’ she said. ‘Do I look absolutely hideous like this?’

He shrugged. ‘It was prettier long, but it will grow soon.’

‘Will I be allowed to live long enough for it to grow?’

‘Don’t think about things like that. I don’t know. I am only given orders.’

She took a gulp of the sweet, scalding tea. It seemed to give her strength.

‘Why are you caught up in this racket?’ she asked.

‘Mine is a very poor country. The only way to make big money in a hurry is on the wrong side of the law.’

Then he told her about his son who was five, who had a very rare heart complaint.

‘If he doesn’t have an operation soon, he will die. We do not have your health service in my country. Everything has to be paid for. This operation costs a lot of money.

‘When this business is all over, and El Gatto pays up, I will have enough to pay for the operation, and be able to take my wife and children to live in a new country. They will arrange a new passport for us.’

‘But won’t the people who give the orders expect you to do other things for them?’

‘No, only one job; that’s the deal.’

‘But can’t you understand the kind of people you’re dealing with?’ said Bella. ‘They’ll never let you go once they get their teeth into you. You’ll be doing jobs for them for the rest of your life, and one day you’ll slip up and it’ll be curtains.’

‘Shut up,’ said Diego. ‘It’s not true.’

Bella played her trump card.

‘Juan Rodriquez is behind this, isn’t he?’

Diego started. ‘How do you know?’

‘Lazlo knows it too, and he’s not stupid. It won’t be long before he tracks us down and, whether we’re dead or alive, you’ll have a long, long spell in jug.’

‘You’re bluffing,’ said Diego, suddenly very agitated.

‘Juan Rodriguez is hardly the sort of name I’d make up. Look, I know all about him, how powerful and vicious he is. He’ll never let you go after one job. And if he bumps off Chrissie and me — which he intends to, doesn’t he? — whether they get the cash or not, Lazlo will hunt the lot of you down until he gets his revenge. With two man-eating tigers on your tracks, you’ll never get that peaceful life you want with your wife and child.’

Diego got up and began to pace about the room.

Bella’s heart was pounding, but she tried to keep her voice calm:

‘Look, Diego, I swear something — if you tip Lazlo off where we are, and it’ll only take one telephone call, he’ll look after you, he’ll get your wife out of Buenos Aires, and he’ll see your child gets the best medical treatment in the world. And you’ll be able to live in peace for the rest of your life, not as a hunted man.’

‘You’re crazy,’ said Diego. ‘The Fuzz’ll grab me the minute I get out of here.’

‘You’ll do a year at the most — particularly as it’s your first offence — but probably Lazlo’ll be able to fiddle it so you don’t even do that — and at least your wife will be safe and your little boy saved.’

Diego sat down and picked up his gun and pointed it at her.

‘Don’t you realize the greatest crime among my people is infamita,’ he said sternly. ‘To talk to the authorities. If I shopped the others, Juan would make sure I was dead in a week.’

‘Not if you had Lazlo’s protection. They’re not worth being loyal to, this lot. They’re a bunch of cheap crooks. You’re different, Diego. You’re a good person, I can tell.’

‘Don’t talk to me like that. If the others heard you, it wouldn’t be just your hair they’d chop off,’ snapped Diego. ‘Lie down and get some sleep.’ He took off his coat and laid it over her shoulders.

‘I ache all over,’ said Bella, ‘I can’t sleep. Rub my back and tell me more about your little boy.’