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Great Writing - Home > Extended > The Case of the Missing Husband ch10
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Extended Work
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| The Case of the Missing Husband ch10 | |
| By Snodlander | ||||
| 02 May 2007 | ||||
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In which Religion gets Littlejohn As we walked down the alley I saw a large sedan parked behind Malone’s car. I started to get a bad feeling about this. Sometimes you couldn’t explain it, but you get an instinct for trouble. It can keep you out of jail, or worse. My suspicions were confirmed when the driver’s door opened and out stepped a rat of a man. He wore a suit, but it didn’t suit him at all. He was small and wiry, with a nasty smirk on his face. I took an instant dislike to him. He stood waiting for us with a confidence that belied his frame. In a fair fight I could take him easily, but he looked like he’d never fought fair in his life. Maybe he had a gun in his pocket. He certainly didn’t look pleased to see me. “Run,” I muttered out of the corner of my mouth. “Why?” she asked. Stupid dame! “Run!” I repeated, but louder. I fixed her with my serious face. She turned, but made no move towards the main street. I turned as well, grabbing her arm. Then I realised why she was standing still. Blocking the exit was the biggest man I had ever seen. Two metres tall, he looked like a fullback that had grown too big even for the majors. He was walking towards us with the inevitability of continental drift. He must have been three hundred pounds, and little of it appeared to be flab. I turned back to rat-man. He was just too confident. He had to be packing. “Mr Littlejohn, my employer would like you to accompany us for a little ride.” “Ride,” echoed the man-mountain, pushing me in the back. “Do I owe him money?” I asked. “Funny. I bet you’re going to crack us up, later.” “Funny. Later,” repeated man-mountain, pushing us closer to the sedan. Malone reached into her bag. “I’ve got a rape alarm!” she said. Rat-man stepped forward briskly and without warning punched her in the nose. Malone fell back full-length onto the floor. I jumped forward but man-mountain grabbed me in his huge arms and held me fast. I aimed a few kicks at rat-man, but he kept well out of range. “Put him in the car,” he ordered. “What about her?” the heavy asked. “We were told to collect Littlejohn. She ain’t nobody.” “You bastard!” I screamed. “You get a thrill hitting girls?” He paused at the driver’s door. “Actually, yeah, I do. You want I should go back and slap her some more? No? Then shut up and get in the car.” The bruiser holding me didn’t give me much of a choice in the matter. He bundled me in the back then sat next to me, his huge fist tight around my wrist. As the car pulled away I twisted round and saw Malone sitting up, blood trickling down her lip, a dazed expression on her face. At least she was conscious. “Sometime you and me are going to have a little discussion about what just happened,” I told rat-man in a low, quiet voice. “Yeah? Oh, I’m so scared. In the mean time behave yourself or Fingers there will have a little discussion with you, and he don’t got a great vocabulary, if you get my drift.” I turned to my captor. “Fingers? You’re a pickpocket?” I asked incredulously. He laughed, a deep and slow rumble. “No.” With his free hand he took hold of my pinkie. I tried to keep it bunched with the rest of my fist but he was strong. “I break people’s fingers.” He smiled. “You want I should show you how I break people’s fingers?” “No, that’s fine, princess. Let’s just hold hands nicely, it being our first date and all.” “Oh, smart move, Mr Detective,” said rat-man. “Make him angry. If he loses it even I won’t be able to stop him. Now sit back, relax, shut that stupid mouth of yours, and you probably won’t get hurt. All my employer wants is to have a little chat with you.” I decided that for the time being I would let Fingers hold my hand, being that I didn’t have a car jack to open his grip. “Where are we headed? My Mom gets worried when I stay out late and I don’t tell her where I’m going.” Fingers levered my pinkie up just enough to be uncomfortable. “Shut up.” “OK, but if I’m not home by nine my Dad will kill you.” The pressure on my pinkie passed uncomfortable and started to become painful. “OK, OK. ‘Shut up’. I got it.” When we turned onto Jefferson I was so surprised the pressure to say something became almost unbearable. When we turned onto the church parking lot it passed surprise into amazement. “Oh, you have got to be kidding me! If you’re taking me to see Debray she will never let me hear the end of it.” We exited the car, Fingers still holding my hand like I was his Prom Queen. Which, given the circumstances, was a scary thought. We walked up the steps to the church and in through the large front doors. Maybe Fingers and I were going to get married, and rat-man was going to give me away. Inside it was what I imagine was pretty normal for a church. I’m not a church man. I’ve learnt the hard way that you get what’s coming, good or bad, regardless of if you ask the man upstairs. We entered the main hall. Rows of benches filled most of the floor. Around the walls were posters with uplifting messages to the faithful. At the front to one side there was a lectern. The far wall was filled with a mural depicting stars and planets, with a huge spaceship flying through it. A statue of a too-tall man in a space suit stood in front of the ship. An LGM church. This day just got better and better. They weren’t just homicidal maniacs that had kidnapped me. They were religious homicidal maniacs. Debray’s father had been an LGM. Debray himself wasn’t, probably because of Daddy giving the family fortune to the church. Maybe they wanted a donation. As the three of us walked up the aisle I started to hum the Wedding March, until Fingers gave my finger a loving jerk as a warning. At the other end of the hall there was a door leading further back into the church. I was marched through there, along a corridor and down a staircase. We ended up in a plain windowless room some 5 metres square. Fingers pushed me into a chair and duck-taped my wrists to the arms. Then he pulled up a stool beside me and sat there, grinning, while rat-man scurried away back up the stairs. Something about Fingers’ grin told me that here was a man that enjoyed his work. I decided to remain silent until their boss showed up.
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