Page 46 of Savage Justice

“Yeah, just while we get him set up. If you can take his feet…?” Tony shoves Borys over to the table. “Get on there, that’s a good lad.”

“Not a chance!” Borys makes another ill-fated attempt to escape, swinging a punch at Tony and trying to dive for the door.

The punch misses by about a yard, but Tony’s doesn’t. He lands his fist in Borys’s kidneys, then delivers a blow to his stomach to bring him gasping to his knees. He’s still gasping for breath when we haul him up onto the table, his head at the end sloping down, and lash him to it with the rope. A few loops around his chest, his abdomen, his hips, and his knees are enough to immobilise him but do nothing to shut him up. His roars of terror and outrage echo round the reinforced steel rafters.

“We need a bit of hush,” Tony grouses. “I can’t hear myself think.”

I pick up one of the towels from the floor and crumple one end of it into a ball which I shove between Borys’s teeth. “There. That should do it. Now, are you ready to listen?”

He glares at me, spluttering into the gag. Expletives, I don’t doubt, but who gives a fuck?

“We’re here to discuss Molly Lowe,” I inform him when he eventually falls silent. “And her children.”

My words give rise to another furious bout of wriggling, writhing, and swearing through the rolled-up towel. I believe I may make out ‘bitch’ and ‘fucking whore’ in among the rest of his garbled diatribe. I’m tempted to teach him some manners, but no one’s that interested in his opinion anyway.

“So, you admit you know her, then. That’s something. The problem is, you’ve been making yourself a bit of a nuisance.”

We’re treated to another round of muffled invective. It’s getting to be a bit wearing, so I wrap my fist around his injured toe and twist it. The ensuing scream beats even my rolled-up towel.

“So, I have your attention? About Molly…”

His jaw is working furiously, but he manages to contain his rage.

“First, you try to bully her into handing over her child to you…”

He starts again, presumably protesting that Noah is his. I put a stop to that by seizing his toe. He shuts up.

“As I was saying, you try the heavy tactics, and when that doesn’t work, you send some half-wit to abduct her nine-year-old daughter. Am I right so far?”

I drag the towel from his mouth so he can answer, not that he seems inclined to do so. He tells me to fuck off, it’s none of my business.

I press on. “And, when that doesn’t work, you hire another meathead to actually break into her house and try to take the boy from his home. From his cot, for fuck’s sake. When he can’t find the baby, your thug turns on Molly. Do you know what he did to her?”

“How would I know? I wasn’t there.”

I notice he makes no attempt to deny his involvement.

“Waterboarding,” I offer by way of being helpful. “He was still on with it when we arrived.”

“So what? She’s alive, isn’t she? And she still has my son. If she thinks she can—”

“Yes, she’s alive. No thanks to your little helper. Waterboarding’s not usually fatal, though it can be. Some people do actually drown, or if they have a weak heart or whatever. Do you have a weak heart, Borys?”

“What? Why…?”

“Not that it matters. You’ll be getting a dose of your own medicine anyway. Seems only fair.”

I nod to Tony, who grasps the empty bucket by the handle and sets it down under the tap in the side of the water butt. He turns the tap on, and the water cascades forth. The sound of splashing echoes around the cavernous space.

“Is it full?”

“To the brim,” Tony confirms. He drags it over to the head end of the table.

I drop the towel in the water to get it dripping wet, then fling it over Borys’s face. “Sorry we couldn’t find nice, clean water for you. This stuff’s been in there a while, and it’s a bit smelly.”

“I spotted a dead rat in there when I checked earlier. It was at the bottom, so I couldn’t get it out.” Jack offers this additional titbit with a mock apologetic grin.

“Never mind, I’m sure we’ll manage.” I pick up the bucket. “You know how this goes, I daresay.”

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