Retribution - A Dish served Cold

Chapter Twenty-Six

Relaxed and cosy in her favourite armchair, with her telephone disconnected, Angela flipped the next page of her Mills and Boon novel, 'The Maid's Best Kept Secret.' It had been an age since she had enjoyed her own company. She could do whatever and whenever except leave the house. The thought that she lied to John bothered her, but how would he know? She was never going to tell him.

The clatter of a siren shattered her peace. Being inquisitive, she stood and walked to the window.

The early drizzle was now a downpour. The driver stopped the vehicle with its blue lights flashing outside her house. She watched two men jump out of the ambulance and race up her garden path. When the doorbell chimed, she opened the door. "Can I help you?"

The younger man didn't smile as he said, "Our office received an emergency call that an elderly gentleman," he glanced at his clipboard, " named Paul Griffin was suffering from a heart attack at this address."

Angela gave a half apologetic shrug. "I'm afraid it's a hoax call. No one of that name has ever lived here."

The older man, his hair greying at the temples, grimaced. "I know it's not the correct procedure, but could I use your toilet."

With a shrug of irritation, Angela smiled. "Of course, you can." She turned and pointed along the hall. "Under the stairs. First door on the right."

"Thank you. I'm bursting."

Her scalp prickled when he brushed by. Too late, she saw the hypodermic enter her thigh.

A wave of light-headedness struck her. "What the hell?"

The older man grabbed her as she collapsed. His eyes swept across the street. It remained quiet. "You get the back doors open. I'll carry her."

From a wall hook, he removed a bunch of keys. He tried three before he found the one that opened the main door. With a heave, he lifted and carried Angela to the ambulance. "I'll make her comfortable while you go back and close the house door."

The younger man nodded and darted away.

The ambulance departed in less than three minutes with lights flashing and a siren at full volume.

Angela lay on her back, staring at the white roof of the vehicle. Her mind was a confusion of emotions. Fear, rage, and uncertainty rampaged through her. Who were these people? What did they want? Her vision blurred, and darkness made time stop. A red butterfly settled on her chest and appeared to stare at her before it spread its wings and vanished. Her eyes flashed open, and the brightness hurt.

There was the squeal of brakes as they turned a corner. She tried to move, but her body did not respond.

Someone peered at her but vanished. The sound of pop music drowned their voices. Several times the vehicle turned sharply and appeared to be retracing its route. There was nothing she could do, so she shut her eyes and listened to Nights in White Satin.

After what appeared to be an eternity, the vehicle stopped, and the rear doors opened. The two men carried Angela into a white-painted house. They lowered her feet to the floor, and, with assistance, she ambled as if wading through water. Through half-closed eyes, she glanced at the man nearest her but found it difficult to make out his features.

Stairs led them to a basement room. The room appeared bland, but the sight of a double bed scared her. The men placed her on her right side and left the room. As the door closed, the centre light went out.

***

The older man grabbed his partner's arm. "Dump the ambulance in the disused quarry and make sure no one sees you."