He had another decision to make. They hadn’t beaten him badly enough to lose consciousness, but there was nothing stopping them, and they’d been smart enough not to talk. He had no idea where they were going to take him, or what they wanted, but remaining conscious was the only asset he had left. He went limp, sagging forward till his forehead rested on the concrete, and he stayed that way, concentrating on keeping his breathing slow and shallow until they lifted him at knees and underarms and threw him on the floor in the back of the van.
They bound his wrists and ankles. They drove; his captors talking too softly to make out more than a word or two over the drone of the engine, but they were speaking a dialect he didn’t know. The pain came, and with it the sense of suffocation. He suspected his nose was broken again. He could only breathe through his mouth. He lay on his side and calculated the odds of surviving this. He was conscious. He wasn’t hurt too much. This was a highly organised attack, not a random mugging. They had to know who he was, and he’d be worth more alive than dead.
Sometime later the van stopped moving. He went limp again and let them carry him. He heard traffic. He smelled the rot of garbage. He felt sunshine briefly before the warmth disappeared, and he was taken inside and dumped on a narrow bed. They removed the hood, but left his hands and feet bound. No one spoke, and he kept his eyes shut till he heard feet retreat and a door close. He was in a room with no windows, one door and only the bed with a stained foam mattress and a single plastic garden chair as furnishing.
It was impossible to get comfortable. His hands were numb. He couldn’t move his fingers. He was worried sick about Bo. It seemed unlikely he’d simply driven off on an errand now. They might not realise he’d pay whatever price they named and more to make sure Bo was safe. Assuming it was money they wanted. Neither of them would be missed for days. Pete would be pissed he didn’t call in, but it wouldn’t be out of character, so it wouldn’t tip him off. He’d be more pissed when he realised no legal manoeuvre was going to fix this problem.
Will had known fear like this before. The fear that comes from being overpowered and losing control, having your options close out. But the last time he’d felt fear like this, like a claw tearing at his guts, he’d been a kid and Norman Vessy had beaten him till he saw stars and couldn’t stand up, and then started in on Pete. Pete who was two years younger, weaker, and too scared to fight back or defend himself against his own father. Will had huddled on the floor bleeding while Pete’s father knocked him unconscious.
He’d had very few options then, but he’d sworn Norman Vessy would never hurt either of them again, and he hadn’t lived to. He had very few options now, but doing nothing wasn’t one of them. There was nothing he could do other than yell the place down.
He started yelling.
21. Proof of Death
“Fine words and an insinuating appearance are seldom associated with true virtue.” — Confucius
It was clear from Mark’s body language, and from Gerry’s inability to meet her eyes, something was very wrong.
Mark was standing, moving about, and since she mostly saw him sitting it was a shock to recall how tall he was. He’d be able to go eye to eye with Spiderman. He closed the door. “Take a seat, Darce.”
She sat beside Gerry, uncharacteristically quiet, unnervingly still.
“Parker Corp is suing over the photos,” said Mark.
She sighed audibly. That was bad, but not out of the ordinary or unexpected. The legal team had said it was borderline when Mark decided to run it. And when she’d finally spoken to her father, days after the story broke, when Will Parker’s infamy was well cemented in the public conscience, and his threatening image had become an internet meme, Brian told her it was a gimme the lawyers would salivate over the fallout from the Avalon deal going sour.
“They’re suing the paper, the publisher and all three of us personally.”
Darcy almost swallowed her tongue. She’d never been sued before. And unless you were a brand name investigative reporter, whose job was to stir up trouble, it didn’t look good on your unofficial rap sheet.
And she hadn’t broken with Peter Parker’s demands. Yes, she’d crashed the function. Yes, she’d created the circumstances that showed Will in such a bad light, but she hadn’t admitted to meeting him separately, and she hadn’t used anything she knew about him or, by extension, Peter. She’d kept her end of the deal, and they were still going to screw her.
Now she wished she’d sent the dress back instead of smuggling it home. Better, taken the scissors to it and cut it to pieces. She could do still that. Take it out of her wardrobe and slice it to ribbons, post it back to Will in distressed clumps, a proof-of-death of the relationship they’d privately shared.
Beside her Gerry lit a cigarette. The surprise was Mark didn’t tell him to put it out.
Gerry coughed, the sound curling wetly in his throat. “We’re restructuring the business finance team. We’re making your role redundant.”
She looked at Mark, still standing. There was no denial in his expression. She looked at Gerry. He was a lousy boss, a bully and a bore, but she’d known him for five years and he’d never faulted her work, because she’d always made him look good. He’d only just fought to have her reassigned to his pages from the science desk. And now he was restructuring.
“You’re sacking me because Parker is suing.”
“No, Darce. Gerry is restructuring,” said Mark. No trace of the iffiness of this in his eyes.
“That’s because it’s illegal to sack me,” sh
e said. Screw Gerry, he’d do anything to save his own hide, but Mark? She’d always respected Mark, as a writer, an editor and a human being.
“I don’t deserve this.”
Neither man made a sound. Cowards.
“When is this restructure?”
“Gerry blew out a stream of smoke. “Effective immediately.”
Darcy looked from Gerry to Mark. She felt her anger as a cold shock, as a block of ice settling on her shoulders, crushing her. “I gave this paper a world-breaking story on Will Parker, and you guys can’t find a way to keep me employed.”