Forever Scarred (23 page)

“What the fuck is going on. Let me go.”

James glared at him. Although he had never met the man before he had seen and heard enough about him. If the night’s researches of the man hadn’t already done it, David’s explanation of the man’s departing insult to Joe was enough to convince him without anything else.

James growled in his ear.

“You were the one to turn up here uninvited Mr. Freeman, now we’d like to have a little chat with you about a few things before the sale of this house goes through. We’re going to offer you some options and convince you to change your mind about a few things.”

Freeman looked decidedly uncomfortable. There was a slick sheen of sweat on his forehead.

“What do you mean? This house is mine anyway. My mortgage company already owns it. If any payments are missed then I’m afraid the house is forfeited. It’s quite clear in all of the paperwork.”

James shook his head and smiled chillingly
at the man.

“Oh dear.
You misunderstood my meaning. I wasn’t going to try and persuade you into doing anything. I am going to tell you what to do and you will listen and then do it. If you don’t, well there will be some consequences that I’m sure you will find as unwelcome as Miss Collins found your threats of blackmail, however that’s up to you. Whatever you decide you have seen the last you ever will of Miss Collins.”

Freeman suddenly paled.

“Lucy? Where is she? She’s meant to be here. What have you gone and done with her?”

James
threw his head back and laughed.

“She has been taken where you will never get your filthy hands on her ever again. Predators like you don’t deserve women of her caliber. Fortunately she has a much worthier protector who doesn’t need to blackmail her into his bed.”

They had arrived in the kitchen and Freeman suddenly spotted Joe.

“You!
I might have guessed you lot were something to do with this when I realized he has a false leg.” He jerked his head back over his shoulder and glanced at James. “Well, don’t think you will ever get away with this. Everything about my company is legal. We’re backed by the FSA and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

Joe wiped his mouth on a piece of kitchen roll and
moved the empty boxes of Chinese food out of the way. He shrugged at Freeman.

“As you say, but that doesn’t mean that your practices are clear or even
honourable. You’re getting rich on peoples misery. You could be like some of the other companies that do a similar sort of thing to yours but you go one step further and choose to keep these unfortunate people paying you for years. It’s wrong in principal if not in law. They pay the debt they owe you twenty times over. That’s not business, it’s extortion.” James pulled out the seat opposite Joe and shoved Freeman into it. He tapped the computer tablet that sat on the kitchen table and the screen instantly came to life. He turned it towards Freeman who raised his eyebrows as he saw his personal bank account details lit up on the screen.

His face turned purple with rage.

“How did you get into this?” He spat out eventually.

Joe shrugged.

“Same way as you hacked into Lucy’s account to discover all her personal details. We have a computer expert too.” He leaned forwards and stared right into Freeman’s face. “But ours is a lot better than yours. In fact your Martha Pherson is cosied up in Bedford constabulary as we speak. She’s been desperate to tell the police everything that she’s had to do for you, including sending malicious emails and changing the wording on contracts so that Miss Collins was unable to find employment or to pay off her bills. Fortunately for us it’s all traceable and the police can see exactly what you have been up to.”

Joe watched
Freeman’s Adam’s apple bob up and down in his throat as he gulped nervously.

“You’re bluffing.
Martha isn’t a fool. There’s no way any of the stuff that she did was traceable.”

Joe shook his head.

“I don’t bluff. I don’t have the time or patience for it. Everything she did is now in the hands of the police. Now, let’s take a look and see how we convince you to improve your work practices as the course in France clearly didn’t work. Pity, as I hate to have a failure on my hands, but maybe there are other ways to improve your disposition to your clients. Now let’s see…” He scrolled down the list on Freeman’s bank statement and pointed to a name and account. “Ah! Your tailor I presume. Now let’s see if I can conjure up an email to him. Shall I complain about the quality of the last suit you purchased or shall I just cancel your account?” He touched the screen and Freeman’s email account popped up. Writing appeared without Joe doing a thing as Alex took over the computer remotely from the pub. Freeman looked on horrified as he saw the words being typed as he watched.

“You can’t send that! I nev
er said his work was sub-standard and I never said that the material was of inferior quality. Have you any idea how long it takes to be accepted as a client for one of these guys? They have waiting lists years long.”

Joe waited until Freeman’s name appeared at the bottom of the email and then
his finger hovered over the button for a long moment before he hit send.

Freeman slumped forwards. He glared up at Joe.

“If you think that losing my tailor will make me change my mind about anything to do with my business then you are sadly mistaken.”

Joe raised his eyebrows and laughed
delightedly.

“Oh no, I didn’t think it would just take that, no actually I was hoping it wouldn’t. So who shall we talk to next?
Ah! The Ivy restaurant. What about your weekly booking there. I should think a complaint about the head chef and the standard of his filet mignon should sort that one out.”

Anoth
er email appeared on the screen and Freeman shrugged.

“There are other
restaurants in London.” He growled out bitterly as Joe hit send again.

Joe smiled pleasantly.

“And what about one to Graff? I’m sure that they will be delighted to hear that you have accused them of selling fake diamonds. I shouldn’t think that will hit the bourse very quickly.”

Freeman was silent this time.
A muscle twitched at the side of his jaw.

Joe carried on

“And Rolex? I wonder if they will be pleased to hear that you are going to the newspapers about their own workshops buying cheap copies from the Chinese markets.” He opened up the email for one of the national daily papers. Hope you have an excellent team of lawyers standing by. All these slanderous accusations…”

Freeman almost whimpered
as another email appeared on the screen.

“Don’t.”
It came out as a strangled whisper.

Joe
tutted and shook his head as he hit send once again.

“Hurts when your personal life is attacked, doesn’t it Freeman. Oh
, and maybe I should send one to your cosmetic surgeon too. Apparently you’ve decided that you think the pectoral implants are not up to standard and that his work isn’t up to scratch…” Joe looked up at him. “I should think that will make you feel very secure when you go for your next shots of botox.”

Freeman pale
d and then turned to James who couldn’t hold back a snigger as he looked down at Freeman’s chest.

“Pectoral implants!
For cosmetic purposes? You have to be joking? Jesus! The man’s had a boob job! Whatever happened to a gym and working out?”

Freeman glowered at James and then banged his fist on the table.

“I don’t care. None of this will make me change my mind.”

Joe sighed deeply.

“Oh dear. Well if we can’t convince you then I suppose there is nothing we can do.” He turned the tablet back around and spoke into his earpiece. “Nothing’s doing here Patrick. I’ve tried my best but he won’t change his mind. Bring the car round, we might as well go home.”

James stepped back from the table and Freeman gave a superior smile.

“Huh! And you guys think you are tough. All you have done is inconvenienced me for a short while. I’ll soon get this lot sorted out.” He was about to stand up when there was a sudden commotion in the hall. Joe jumped up out of his seat and was about to walk out of the room when Patrick and David barged in through the kitchen door dragging two thoroughly rumpled looking individuals with them. They were followed by a woman who looked meaner than Scrooge on Christmas Eve.

Patrick backed off with
one of the men while David threw the other over the table as Gemma shouted.

“Bastard tried to nick the car. We’d just nipped over the road to buy some bacon sandwiches and when we came back he was picking the lock.”

Joe took a deep breath and looked around at the others.

“Well that’s an inconvenience to say the least. I was hoping we could get
away without anyone seeing us. Who’s the other guy?” He looked at the man being held by Patrick. Patrick clapped a hand over his captive’s mouth as he looked as though he was going to speak.

H
e shrugged.

“He’s just
a nobody. We found him snooping around in the garden. Looked like he was about to steal something too.

The man over the table was stammering.

“I said I was sorry. I won’t do it again and I won’t tell anyone I saw you. In fact I never saw anything. Nothing happened and I was just out walking as usual.”

Patrick shouted
menacingly.

“
Shut up you little prick while we decide what to do with you.”

The man didn’t shut up. He began stammering

“B…but I didn’t see a damn thing okay. I’ll never try to steal anything again, I swear.” He attempted to rise off the table.

Gemma scowled at him
and shoved him down again.

“He’s a low life turd. I hate thieves and liars.
This other guy is probably a thief too. Let me show them both something to convince him that we mean business.”

Joe looked between
Patrick and David and then at James before he nodded.

“Okay. I know what you want to do, but for goodness sake leave him with one. We don’t want him being a burden to the state like that last guy ended up.”

Gemma leaned forwards over the table and raised her meal hand. The man over the table squirmed and bucked. She looked over at James and David who both nodded for her to go ahead.

Freeman looked on horrified.

“What are you going to do to him? It was just a car for God’s sake!” His voice had shot up a couple of octaves.

Gemma turned to him slowly.

“You had better keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you.” She turned back to the guy who was now being held in the vice like grasp of David and James.

“
Hold him still fellas. I don’t want a mess on my fingers.” She lowered her hand to the man’s petrified face and slowly dug her fingers around his eye socket.

Freeman backed away from the table as fast as he could.

“What the fuck are you doing? He only tried to steal your car. He’s told you that he won’t say a word about you being here.”

Gemma glanced up at him. Her voice was like steel as she spoke between gritted teeth.

“Stay out of this. There’s nothing worse than a thief.”

Joe looked up into Freeman’s eyes. He spoke very softly.

“Well, not if you don’t count blackmailers and extortionists or deserting someone and leaving them with all your own shit on their shoulders.” The man who had been struggling in Patrick’s arms suddenly became very still.

Gemma snorted
as she appeared to feel around the whimpering man’s eye.

“Yes,
blackmail, extortion and desertion are worse but fortunately I only have a thief in front of me. If he did any of those other things too I’d have to cut off both his balls with a blunt spoon and feed them to him for breakfast.” She dug her fingers in deeper and then suddenly, with a great oozing sucking sound, she plucked the man’s eye from its socket.

The man on the table screamed but Freeman
and the man Patrick was holding screamed louder. Freeman slammed back into the cupboards behind him as Gemma laughed and the man on the table passed out with pain. She held up the glistening eyeball and turned to stare at Freeman.

“Who is this creep and what’s he doing here? Someone shut him up. He’s getting on my nerves.”

Freeman shut his mouth quickly. His eyes were glued to the dripping eyeball that danced in front of his face. Gemma frowned and inspected the orb closely. The blue of the iris gleamed brightly still. She squeezed it gently and the thing bulged and looked as though it was about to pop. She looked back up at Freeman and smiled but it was too late. His eyes had rolled up into the top of his head and he was slithering down the cupboard.

She turned to the man Patrick was still holding. He had suddenly gone very qu
iet too. Gemma walked up to him still holding the eyeball. She stood about two inches from his face and glared at him.