Paternal Instinct

Plod=Police officer

Short story

Paternal Instinct

The severed finger rolled across the concrete floor and rested against Karl Daugherty's left shoe. His eyebrows drew closer together. "They are Burberry brogues..."

A man in white paper overalls dropped a pair of cable shears onto a bench and plucked up the offending digit. "Sorry, Boss." He rubbed the shoe with a wad of tissue.

In the centre of the room, flanked by two large men, a man was tied to a straight backed chair. Teeth clenched, and breathing in staccato snorts, he pressed a cloth against the stump of his little finger.

The man flinched when Daugherty edged forward and leaned in close. "I watched the recording of our previous conversation before you arrived." Daugherty straightened and spoke louder, "I wanted to make sure it wasn't me, that I hadn't been vague." He started to pace. "I didn't think it would be. I am never vague." He spread his arms, palms facing out. "Am I ever vague?"

"No, Boss," chorused his subordinates.

He prodded a finger onto the man's forehead. "I told you to sell your assets and repay your loan to me without delay - and you agreed."

The man avoided Daugherty's stare as he spoke, "But I'm on the verge of a breakthrough."

"Not," Daugherty thrust the finger forward, jolting the man's head back, "interested. I'm a financier, and I made it clear it was a fixed term loan – and your time is up." He resumed pacing. "My advice is to accept Rathyon's offer."

The man looked up. "How did you know Rathyon wanted my research?" A fist from behind slammed into his jaw.

"Mr Daugherty asks the questions, not you." The heavy gripped the man's hair and jerked his head straight.

The phone in Daugherty's pocket vibrated, it would be Lisa, his daughter. He gripped the man by the throat. "Start a fire sale." With a tilt of the head he indicated the cable shears. "One week, or we cut you out and start negotiating with your wife, understand?" He released his hold. The man swallowed and gave a silent nod. Daugherty shrugged his jacket straight. "Go to the police and we move straight to the end game."

Outside, Daugherty looked across the manicured lawns toward his large detached house. There was movement in his daughter's bedroom. Even the thought of interacting with Lisa while in business mode felt uncomfortable. He drew in a deep breath, held it for a few seconds, and closed a lid on his thoughts. His intense expression relaxed into a slack smile as he exhaled. A simple technique he found online that worked better than any of the expensive medical advice. He read Lisa's text. His smile broadened as he called her, "Of course I want to see you in your new dress."