Biting The Bullet

Chapter 7

The phone slipped out of Lady Greenbrook's hand and landed on the carpeted floor with a thud. Her body had gone rigid and her gaze was transfixed ahead, seeing but not looking. Sounds of families chatting and eating, businessmen clinking glasses, waiters bustling to and fro, amplified by a hundred times, convulsing and buzzing in her ears. The world around her spun and turned and swirled at an alarming rate as if she was on a ship about to sink.

It wasn't until several seconds later that the world slowed back down to normal and the booming clatters of cutlery subdued to tinkles. She blinked, her senses flooding back, and brought her phone back to her ear. "How much do you want?"

"A billion."

She tightened the grip on her phone to prevent it from dropping again. "What?"

"No negotiations, deadline tomorrow night. You'll only waste your breath calling the police." With that he hung up, and cued his partner to move on to Violet.

Feeling the cool metal pressed onto the side of her forehead, Violet covered her eyes with her hands, her small body shaking violently. It would be over soon. In a quavery voice she started to list her mother's phone number. Unfortunately, her mind went blank at the last digit. Trying each number for a feel didn't help.

Number 5 gave her an impatient whack on the head, causing it to hang on one side. "I'm really sorry," she said feebly.

"You moron," spat Number 4. "Now we have to test every single number." He tapped on 1 but it didn't go through. 2 turned out to be a kid who just got his first phone, his overexcited voice a complete contrast to the melancholy atmosphere. 3 was a useless advertisement. Finally a normal voice for 4—

"Officer Johnson here."

In a flash Number 4 rang off. "The goddamn police! Are you kidding me, you foolish girl?"

Richard and Beatrix glanced at each in stifled laughter. Violet, too consumed by fear to realise what was going on, gazed at Number 4's fiery eyes, lips quivering. "I didn't know—"

She was cut off as the next number dialled was met with a feathery voice. "Yessss?" came a slow purr.

Her cheeks warmed in embarrassment.

"Is this Violet's mother?"

"Yes, my dear. Do hurry as I'm having a manicure," she replied, completely oblivious.

"Your daughter's kidnapped." He cut straight to the point.

In the nail salon, she tilted her head back and shook in laughter. "Junk calls are getting loopy, aren't they, Jem?"

The manicurist nodded fervently as she applied more glittery nail polish on Violet's mother's nails.

"This is not a junk call," growled Number 4.

"Which junk call would admit its true nature?"

Jem gave her a thumbs-up and mouthed, "K.O.!"

She smiled triumphantly. "If you haven't got anything important to say—"

"We do. It's about your daughter, who is k-i-d-n-a-p-p-e-d kidnapped. We want a ransom of a billion dollars."

"I know how to spell, you imbecile of a junk call. My answer to you is, bugger off." By that, she ended the call.

Number 4 slammed his hand on the table, which rocked on its legs. He drilled his eyes into Violet's, as if addressing her soul, "You're going to get it if no ransom is delivered."

Sweat dripped from her forehead. The silence that followed was killing her. However, it only lasted until Number 4 spoke to the phone once more, "Beatrix has been kidnapped."