Dead Men's Harvest

Chapter 40

He’d just got off the satellite phone and Cain wasn’t very happy. He knew that the CIA man was stalling and even though he’d threatened to start dicing up Jennifer, Walter Hayes Conrad hadn’t been moved to hurry the process along. Conrad swore that John Telfer was on his way, but it was beyond his power to organise his transfer in anything below five hours. Cain doubted that; he could have had Telfer bundled on to a military jet and transferred from anywhere in the US within half that time.

‘You have one more hour,’ Cain had said. ‘If Telfer isn’t there by then I start cutting.’ The fact that Cain himself wouldn’t be at the rendezvous by then was academic; he wouldn’t allow Conrad the three extra hours he’d pleaded. Those three hours weren’t in order to arrange John Telfer’s arrival but something else.

Cain knew that the CIA were resourceful enough to have pinpointed his location by now and would be organising some sort of assault on the ship. He had warned the CIA man of what such action would bring. First sign of any kind of military presence, he promised, and he would slaughter his captive. Cain was pragmatic enough to guess that he was a more valuable prize to the CIA man than the life of a nobody from England. The assault would be coming and it was time to move. The location where he’d requested John Telfer to meet him was equally dangerous, but so long as he got his blade into Telfer’s body before the attack began he’d be happy enough. He didn’t fear death, but he did fear dying without taking his nemesis to Hell alongside him. His legend depended upon it. To the world Tubal Cain, the Harvestman, was a hapless fool by the name of Robert Swan who’d died in the Mojave Desert. It was time that the ridiculous lie was rectified and everyone knew the truth. Slaughtering Telfer under the watchful eye of the world would ensure that he would finally earn the credit he was due.

Before leaving the bridge, he smashed the satellite phone repeatedly against the control panel of the ship’s guidance system, breaking both. Light crackled and pulsed from the starred radar screen. The damage assuaged some of the anger he felt towards Walter Conrad. A stairwell led down through the tower to the lower decks, and he went in search of Baron and the crew members who’d given him their service since their old captain had perished. Down there he hoped that they’d readied the equipment. Captain Grodek had been a filthy-minded wretch, and he’d delighted in filming his own skin flicks that were uploaded directly to the World Wide Web. Well, it wasn’t only human-trafficking pornographers who could use digital technology to spread their message via the click of a mouse. Cain had discovered the room where the girls had been abused, found the cameras and wi-fi compatible laptop computers, and realised that he too could televise his own prime time show.

He found Baron waiting for his return.

‘Everything’s in order?’

‘Everything’s in chaos.’

Baron’s lips pinched, having no idea what he was alluding to. No, there was only one Prince of Chaos here, maybe even in the entire world. It didn’t matter; Baron was still a valuable ally.

‘Jennifer Telfer, she’s ready?’ Cain looked past Baron, peering into the room beyond. It was the ship’s galley, the place where the crew had spent their downtime, and was as ugly as anywhere else on the ship. The air was putrid with the stench of old grease, hand-rolled cigarettes and the fumes of strong spirits. Sailors allegedly drank rum, Russians vodka, but it appeared that this crew enjoyed anything as long as it was alcoholic. There was a double row of tables down the centre of the room, chairs parked under them, and at the far end a separate table at a right angle to all the rest. The captain’s table was as grimy as the others. Behind it sat Jennifer Telfer, staring back at him, the whites of her eyes stark in the dim light.

Baron neglected to answer: what was the need? Instead he anticipated Cain’s next question. ‘The crew are readying the lifeboat, bringing the video equipment you requested and loading it before we take her up. Some of the idiots are grumbling about how you intend paying them once this is over with. They didn’t anticipate abandoning the ship and are afraid that you’re going to renege on the deal first chance you get.’

‘Then they’re more astute than I thought,’ Cain smiled. ‘Don’t worry about them. If it takes killing a couple as an example I’ll do that. The others will beg to be allowed on the lifeboat.’

‘Why are we even taking them?’

‘The currents are notorious around here. Who knows where we’ll end up? If we’re marooned on a desert island I want to make sure we’ve got something to eat.’

Baron blinked.

Cain grinned, showing even white teeth. ‘I’m joking, Baron. Jeez, don’t you ever laugh?’

‘I’ll laugh when we’re off this damn ship and I know that Joe Hunter’s out of the picture. I owe that bastard. When he killed Hendrickson he cost me a lot of money, not to mention shooting me. He ruined everything I’d built up, and it’s going to be a long time before I can recoup my losses.’

‘You’ve picked up the reins of Hendrickson’s organisation, you’ve probably gained a thousand times what you lost.’

‘But with Hunter around, how long will I hold on to it?’

‘He’s remorseless, I’ll give him that.’ Cain touched the scar tissue in his throat. ‘I owe him, too. But I’d rather kill his brother. You can have Hunter all to yourself, Baron.’

This was no magnanimous gesture. Cain doubted that Baron was man enough to stop Joe Hunter, but he’d slow him long enough to let Cain finish his own task. Then he would turn his surgical skills on Hunter. Christ but he hoped that both brothers would appear for the final showdown.

Baron shook his head. ‘Remorseless. Yes, but I’m not afraid he’d hunt me down, Cain. It’s just that I couldn’t concentrate on setting myself up again if I was distracted by him. This way I can finish things once and for all.’

Cain didn’t think that Baron would ever become an underworld boss. Even if by some miracle he did take Hunter down, Cain wasn’t going to let Baron walk away intact. The Harvestman had coveted something of him since the first time he’d looked on his smooth face and wondered how delicate the lines of the skull beneath were.

‘You are both going to die.’

Cain turned to the source of the voice. Jennifer was staring at him, her expression that of a she-panther protecting its young.

‘Be quiet, will ya? You should be afraid of what’s going to happen to you if Hunter does show up.’

‘I’ve known fear for years,’ Jennifer said. ‘What makes you think you can terrify me any more than all the others?’

Cain dipped his hand into his pocket and came out with a small plastic bag. He walked the length of the galley and tossed it on to the captain’s table, then flipped it open and dumped the contents on the pitted surface. Grimy pink lumps scattered across the table, and Jennifer recoiled from the collection of fingers and toes: mementoes from the crewmen who’d refused a new captain. Her shriek of disgust was loud but driven by anger. She swept Cain’s trophies from the table with her forearm and they were distributed in a horrifying pattern on the floor.

‘Would you just look at the mess you’ve made,’ Cain said, as if he was scolding a child.

‘You are sick!’

‘You’ll be sicker,’ Cain said. ‘Pick them up.’

‘No.’

‘I said to pick them up.’

‘No. I won’t touch the filthy things!’

Cain placed both hands on his hips. ‘Hmmm. Then we have a problem.’

Jennifer didn’t see him move before he’d snapped his left hand around her wrist and dragged her forward. He was already drawing his Bowie knife before self-preservation kicked in and she tried to flinch away. She screamed, understanding what he intended, and tried to wrench Cain’s grip loose, but she might as well have been attempting to rip a tree up by its roots. Cain shook her savagely. ‘Sit still,’ he snapped.

Baron swayed in the wings as he watched with fascination. Cain glanced over at him. ‘Get over here, Baron, and hold her down while I replenish my stock.’

Baron took hold of Jennifer’s other arm. Jennifer hollered, tried to fight the men, but all she achieved was a laugh from Cain. He bore down on her arm, crushing it to the tabletop. Then he guided the Bowie to her fingers. Jennifer scrunched her hand in a tight fist, but it was no deterrent to Cain. He jabbed the tip of his knife between the knuckles of her index and ring fingers and instinctively her hand shot open. Cain transferred his grip, holding her hand flat as he positioned the cutting edge of his knife over the second joint of her little finger. ‘Are you afraid yet?’

Jennifer screeched. She bucked and squirmed in their grasp. Both men grinned.

‘I see some things do make you happy?’ Cain said and Baron winked back at him.

‘You like pain, huh, Baron?’ Cain switched his attention back to the woman. ‘What about you, Jennifer? Do you like pain?’

Cain grunted as he pressed down on the blade, and Jennifer’s eyes widened in disbelief as the tip of her finger shot away from her trailing a thin ribbon of blood. ‘Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, my God! ’

‘As good as sex, eh?’ Cain said, retrieving the dismembered joint and stuffing it in the plastic bag. ‘Pity we didn’t have the cameras rolling, we’d have been an instant hit on You Tube!’ Jennifer doubled her efforts to escape, but Cain wouldn’t release her hand. He placed the knife over her second finger. ‘One down, nine to go.’

‘Let me go!’ Jennifer went wild, and even made it out of her chair, Cain struggling to control her until he swung the Bowie towards her face. The tip slid into the flesh just below her right eye, and the pain was enough to halt her in her tracks. She stood, her chest heaving, but it wasn’t for fear of being blinded.

‘Do anything you want to me,’ she said. Her voice was an octave below menacing. ‘But where’s the bait for your trap then?’

Cain loosened his grip, nodding at Baron to also let go. Jennifer slumped in the chair, cradling her injured hand. Blood trickled from the stump, pooling in the cup of her palm, but it went unnoticed by both men.

Her release wasn’t a show of pity. Cain had heard something even over the din in the galley.

The bland-faced man had heard it too.

‘Gunfire.’ Baron grinned, looking like a leering sideshow freak.

Cain addressed Jennifer. ‘Get up, and no goddamn nonsense this time.’

Jennifer’s face was an empty plane formed from shock.

‘You said that Joe Hunter would come,’ Cain said. ‘It seems you were right, after all. Let’s go up on deck and meet him, shall we?’