Helen and Mark approached the mouth of the pit. Helen called for a ladder to be brought over – she was anxious to get down there quickly, eager to know the worst. The hatch was already open, so she peered inside. And there in the gloom lay the body. The man Peter had murdered. Ben Holland.
‘Do you want to go down or shall I?’
Mark’s question was well-meaning and he was straining not to be patronizing. But Helen had to see this for herself.
‘I’m fine. This won’t take long.’
Carefully, she climbed down her ladder into the body of silo. The smell was strong down here. Gas fused with coal dust and excrement. The forensic team had found strong traces of a powerful sedative, benzodiazepine, in Sam and Amy’s excrement. They’d probably find it here too. Helen turned her attention to the body. He was lying face down, a pool of blood congealed around his head. Taking care not to touch him, Helen knelt down, craning round to look at the victim’s face.
Disgust and then surprise. Disgust at the bloody hole where his left eye used to be. And surprise at the realization that this was not Ben Holland.
Jake was shocked to see her again so soon. Up until now, she’d been fairly predictable: one hour-long session per month. He’d been tempted not to answer the buzzer when it rang – it was after 11 p.m. and all encounters had to be pre-booked for safety reasons. But when he’d seen her face on the screen, he’d been concerned. Concerned and intrigued.
Something was up. She didn’t look at him when she entered the flat and made no mention of the late hour. Normally, he got a brief smile or hello at least. But not tonight. She was distracted, looking inward, even less communicative than usual. She put the money on the table and removed her clothes without looking at him. Then she took off her bra and knickers – standing naked in front of him. This wasn’t really on – this kind of thing usually led to propositions. He was a dominator, not a whore. He provided a service, but not that kind of service.
He had his speech ready as she walked towards him, but she sailed straight past, towards his armoury of goodies. Another rule broken – only he was allowed to choose the method of punishment. That was part of the gig – the submissive didn’t know exactly how they were going to be punished. But Jake said nothing, something in her actions brooked no argument tonight. Jake felt a little frisson of fear and excitement. It was as if the game were being turned back on him and for once he was not the one in charge.