Different (17 page)

Carefully, she brushed the glass into the pan and emptied it in the rubbish bin but she felt thirsty and poured herself a glass of water and then another. Feeling much better, she started to mop up the blood.

"Jay?” Tom was using that strange voice again and pointing to her feet, she smiled and nodded.

"Foots are all better now Granddad, is Grandma Anna better now?"

She went with Tom and her Grandma in the ambulance to the hospital and followed the men who carried Anna inside on something Tom called a stretcher. They waited until the doctor came out of Grandma's room and said that Grandma would be all right but would have to be kept in hospital until tomorrow.

That night as Granddad tucked her into her bed, he had a long talk with her about her special gifts and why she had to keep them secret. Then kissing her on the forehead he said, “Always remember Jay that people are afraid of anyone who is different, and sometimes hurt them because they're afraid. Never let them know that you're different from them."

Russell was disappointed to learn that Janine had gone to check out one of her casinos, the one in Wolverhampton, that her brother Spencer was managing. Russell didn't like Spencer much, and if he hadn't been family, Russell would've fired him years ago.

Both he and Janine were millionaires now, and it seemed a long time ago since Karen had produced that first baby, and then another fathered by the male they'd found for her. Both babies had been quickly sold to their eagerly awaiting new parents. Karen had been pregnant again when she'd stumbled down a concealed mine shaft and been killed.

Fortunately by then there had been another eight girls producing healthy babies fathered by the four males who included Karen's mate. Each male had two females to service and as the males knew that if they failed to impregnate their women they'd be killed, they were not averse to sharing the women with the other males. From Russell's point of view, it was good because there was no reason for any of the group to become jealous.

A lot had happened in fifteen years, he reflected, Janine had opened several Casinos, and his business partner, Henry had made the political scene.

The children of the groups he hadn't sold and who had been born on the Devil's Footprint knew of no other way of life, accepting their fate without question. Some had been operated on and were missing an eye, a kidney or a liver. Of course all of the heart and lung donor's were rotting at the bottom of the swamp. All of the organ donors were operated on in the top floor of the big house which had been transformed into a surgical operating theatre, the recipient of the organ arrived at the theatre with his or her own surgeon, who were too well paid to worry about the ethics of removing the required body parts from young and healthy patients.

He was feeling bored, perhaps he should have a ride over to Birmingham and take care of the hits before he flew out, because it would be at least a fortnight before he would be able to return.

Russell left the library and went up to his suite of rooms, he'd have a drink and some breakfast before taking Abby to join the others. There was a message waiting for him in the office from the agency, the Ainsworth couple had checked out satisfactory and had paid the seven and a half thousand pounds deposit to the Foundation's account.

Like all prospective couples desperate enough to approach the Greystone Foundation, they had exhausted all the other adoption agencies and the Foundation was their last hope. It was through the Foundation that babies born to women of the groups were effectively marketed. A miscarriage or a stillborn baby would simply be disposed of in the incinerator and be replaced with one of the healthy babies from the group. The mothers of the dead babies were each given a thousand pounds to help them recover from the trauma, an act that often moved them to tears of gratitude.

There were, on average, only twenty babies a year taken from the groups but added to the sixty plus born at the Foundation, it produced an income in excess of one and a quarter million pounds per year.
It was a pity that most of the babies born at the clinic had to be adopted through a genuine adoption agency
, he thought, but the sale of body organs was really taking off and would soon be making as much if not more than the baby business.

They had toyed with the idea of taking some of the young mothers’ captive for breeding and organ transplants, but had decided it was too much of a risk. They could have confided to someone they were going to the Foundation and if they disappeared and were reported missing it just might lead to an investigation. All the transplant operations were carried out thirty miles away, from the Foundation and performed at Catherstone, and there was no way the two businesses could be linked.

He was about to go into the dining room when he received a phone call from Henry.

"I've just received some news about Jeremy,” he said. “If I were you, I'd get that girl we've been keeping as a donor for him, ready for surgery. Give his doctor a ring and let him know that we can supply the kidneys and a secure operating theatre at Greystone's. When Jeremy finds out it's our foundation he'll get the message and play along, but get Janine prepared to expect some very heavy security down there."

"I'll take care of that myself..."

"No! I need you on a flight back here now. With all this damned extra security over the terrorist threat, people are beginning to ask why my head of security is out of the country."

"Ok, Henry. I'll get the jet fuelled up and be with you tomorrow."

"Good, I'll have a car waiting for you at the airport. I'll feel more secure with you around to watch my back."

After Henry hung up, Russell rang Jeremy's doctor, who, although Jeremy didn't know it, was already a customer of his. Having completed his business, Russell went into the dining room and helped himself to a light lunch before getting himself ready to visit the groups.

Russell was dressed casually with a pair of binoculars and a camera hanging over his shoulder and wearing walking boots and a baseball cap, the universal attire of bird-watchers. Russell however was not remotely interested in birds, he regarded ornithologists as a bunch of nuts, but it was an effective cover because bird-watchers were numerous around there.

It was a sudden urge to check the security of Devil's Footprint that led him to return unannounced. A sudden uneasiness, instinct that something was going to go wrong and Russell always trusted his instincts. He wanted to check out the security fence and gates that isolated the house and the electric fences behind them. Between the fences, six Doberman dogs ran free but he needed the reassurance that only inspecting them himself would bring.

Walking through the village, he saw there was a funeral in progress, he turned left away from the church and headed towards the chase, he would approach the estate from the chase. Adjusting the straps of his backpack, Russell pulled it back on and hoped he had everything that he'd need.

He lay concealed in the bracken, his high power binoculars mounted on a small stand and focused on the people who were gathered outside of the nearest group of huts. There was Marcus wearing his usual fancy suit and sitting on executive leather, like the Lord of some feudal manor. The young men and girls were looking at him in the same way the kids back home looked at rock stars.

Grinning, Russell screwed the long-range microphone together and after putting on his headset, aimed the contraption that now looked like a rifle, towards them.

One of the boys came out of one of the huts and held up what appeared to be a newborn baby and everyone started to cheer. The guy sitting on the throne nodded in approval as the baby was held aloft and raised a hand to acknowledge the cheers of the others.

"Let's party!” Marcus cried.

They went berserk; as soon as they'd unloaded a cow from a Marcus's low loader and started to butcher it, it was like watching one of those medieval films he used to like as a kid, all that was missing was the knights in their armour.

Russell wrinkled his nose against the ever-pervading stench that rose from deep in the ground, he would be glad to breathe some good clean air into his lungs.

One of the men was approaching Marcus carrying a pitcher of beer and he handed it to him.

"Thank you Josh,” he said. “The baby will fetch a good price and your group will benefit."

"It's a going to be good year,” Josh said smiling. “Three more of the girls are pregnant, so it will be a good year."

"You'll be looked after, Josh. How about a new knife and an axe?"

"Thank you!” Josh said grinning with delight, “I hope you like the beer and I'll get you a steak when it's ready. Would, would you like to take one of the girls to bed while you're waiting?"

"Just the ale this time, Josh, but you may choose any woman for the night. We will be taking Emma with us, someone has need of her kidneys but the Lady Janine has already found a suitable replacement."

"I'll have her tied up and put into your trailer, Doctor. Can we have her body for burial afterwards? We'd like to say our goodbyes?"

"Yes, you can return her body to the marshes and wish her a happy life in the one beyond. She's always been a good member of the group."

Russell packed away his equipment and smiled in satisfaction, his racket of kidnapping runaways and breeding them to sell their babies like god-dammed puppies, was working like a dream. The organ transplant sales were also booming. He'd go back and join Janine for dinner; it would be good to get laid again.

Stretching, he tossed the butt of his cigarette down an open shaft and there was a muffled explosion and flames leapt up towards him but he was already jumping clear. After a few minutes, the flames were no longer visible but the gas would be burning in the tunnels of the abandoned mine, he'd heard they could burn for years.

He was whistling as he walked back through the village, the funeral party had long gone from the churchyard, climbing into his car he drove towards Birmingham.

He unlocked the car's glove compartment and smiled when he saw the Beretta automatic and the envelope that always contained 30,000 in used banknotes. That was half his fee for the triple hit

Russell always charged the company for his services. After all, it was him who was taking the additional risk. The silencer for the pistol and the spare ammunition were in his pocket. He felt a surge of adrenalin,
it was good to be in action again and the assassination business paid well
, although he would willingly forgo the fee if he had to.

His targets were a vicar who lived in Birmingham, the scrap metal merchant and his wife who'd threatened the Catherstone operation's security by telling their vicar that they'd arranged a private adoption of a new born baby. The vicar had been suspicious and had arranged to have dinner with the couple but fortunately Russell had, as he always did, wired the couple's house once they'd paid their deposit. Originally, he'd planned to take them all out while they were having dinner together, but this way was more fun.

The woman who answered the door didn't recognise him, because of the wig and the cheek pads he wore. Although she was in her late forties, she was very attractive indeed. She frowned and looked around for the dogs, which he'd disposed off a few minutes before, but before she could speak, he hit her hard in the stomach. Seizing her hair, he jerked her upright and she backed into the house her eyes wide in fright with the silencer rammed deep into her mouth.

He kicked the door shut behind him, squeezed the trigger and Gillian's body seemed to jump away from him and fall heavily to the floor. Without hurrying, he placed the pistol between her blindly staring eyes and fired again.

"What's going on Jill? Who is it?” A thick set man came into the room and stared in horror as Russell walked over to him and pressed the pistol against his throat.

"You talk too much Joe,” he said and shot him. Although the man was already dead, Russell shot him between the eyes too. It was his trademark, one bullet in the throat and another one between the eyes, close up and personal. No snipers rifle or car bombs for the Death Dancer, no, he liked to see the fear in the target's eyes, seconds before they died.

He took his calling card from his pocket and dropped it on Joe's corpse, it showed a skeleton dancing on a grave, and that was why the media had called him the Death Dancer.

An hour later, the vicar had died in his study and Russell was driving back towards the airport and he wondered if the murders would be on tomorrow's early morning news.

Jay, her eyes red from crying, stooped and taking a handful of soil, sprinkled it into the grave and watched it land on the polished lid of her Grandmother's coffin. Peter squeezed her shoulder, comforting her, and led her and Sharon, his wife who had flown in from New York, away from the grave.

"Look Jay, come back with us to the States, we'd love to have you really. Sharon, Scott and I all agree that we'd only worry about you being on your own over here."

Jay smiled at her Uncle Peter who looked more like Granddad Tom than ever. “I can't not yet, I just want to stay here for a while, at least until the cottage is sold, but what about Mary?”

"Mary, you were included in the invitation,” Peter said. “Why not come back with us? We'll have to return here for the inquests in a few weeks and for the funerals anyway, and I'm sure Scott would enjoy showing you around."

Mary looked at Jay who, upon realizing her friend wanted to go, nodded her approval. “I'd love to come back with you if Jay doesn't mind being on her own,” Mary said. “I need to get away from everything.”

"Of course I don't mind,” Jay said. “I'll be fine and anyway it's only for a few weeks."

"All right, but I'll put some money into your bank account to tide you over, Jay,” Peter said. “Don't argue. I insist and besides, the money from the sale of the cottage will be yours anyway. You're definitely going to put it on the market?"

"Yes, it would be too big for me and Mary. How do you like it in America?"