The house was as dark inside as out. The Beetle she’d checked up on, belonging to one Mary Miller, was not in sight. Grace exited her own vehicle, leaving the door unlocked. She walked slowly toward the house, encircling the building twice. No one was home.
At the front door, Grace removed her lock pick set from the body armour suit she was wearing. She was taking no chances. She had not spent half her life tracking him to make a mistake now. She had no intention of ending up like her mother, or any of his other victims, for that matter. Tonight, he would be the victim.
Seconds later, she was inside the living room. It was larger than most, approximately fifteen feet square. A dining table stood to the right behind the door, in front of a window. A three-piece suite hogged the centre of the room. Along one wall she saw a pine bookcase. The usual entertainment systems were in place: a TV, hi-fi, and Sky. A number of doors led to different rooms.
Leaving the front door open, she crossed the room to a small lamp in one corner. She removed her goggles, felt for a switch. The light came on, which meant the electric was working fine. She switched it off. With the light out, she replaced the goggles and walked through all the downstairs rooms, removing every bulb she could find, depositing them all in a bin in the kitchen. She felt happier knowing that he could not take her by surprise.
Near the stairs to the upper floor, she saw two doors. She suspected one was a basement. She opened the other. It was an understairs cupboard, big enough to step into. All she saw were a number of coats: two small jackets, and two full length ones hung on pegs.
She closed the door, opened the next one. What surprised her was the silence. It was so complete. Even the doors didn’t squeak. She stared at the set of steps leading down. Grace saw the light switch, but decided to continue using the goggles.
She descended the stairs very slowly, stepping carefully on each. No creaks or groans gave her away, despite her tactical gear being fully loaded with all sorts of nasty little surprises should she need one quickly, including a 4.5-million-volt stun gun and a home-made Mace canister.
She reached the bottom. In one corner, huddled in a blanket, close to a radiator, she noticed a figure. It was hard to tell, but Grace suspected it was female. It didn’t resemble Mary Miller, but she couldn’t think who else it might be. The world was a small place these days.
“Who’s there?” asked the frail voice in the corner.
Grace didn’t answer immediately, but checked every corner of the room. Only when she was satisfied that it had one inhabitant did she remove her goggles and flick the switch. The figure in the corner shrunk back, suddenly surprised.
Grace was sickened by what she saw. As the lady blinked a few times, she could tell by the face it was Mary, but every inch of body hair had been removed, and she’d lost weight. Typical of that bastard.
When her eyes cleared, Mary’s expression revealed the traumatic experience she had suffered. Her skin was ashen, her cheeks sunken. Grace noticed a flesh wound on her right arm. Mary had been shackled to the radiator. Next to her on the floor was a handgun.
“Please,” said Mary. “Don’t do this.”
“I’m not who you think,” said Grace.
Surprised, Mary was on her feet quickly. “Who are you?”
“It doesn’t matter. We need to set you free.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’ve just told you. Why is there a gun on the floor?”
Mary glanced at the weapon, but didn’t say anything. Neither did she raise her head to meet Grace’s eyes.
“Don’t tell me, you’ve been playing games.”
Mary nodded.
“He made you play Russian roulette with a gun full of blanks, didn’t he?”
“Yes,” said Mary. “Only I didn’t know they were blanks.”
“Nobody ever did,” said Grace.
Her expression darkened, the frown throwing up lines all over her forehead. “You mustn’t let him catch you. I don’t know who you are, but you need to go. He can be very nasty when he wants, and if he catches us both down here, we’ll be in all sorts of trouble.”
“I’m not leaving without you.” Grace bent down and located her lock pick set once again.
“Where did you get all that gear? Are you with the SAS or something?” Mary asked.
Grace glanc
ed up. “Let’s just say I’m your guardian angel.”
The lock was free and Mary was unshackled in seconds.