Sam: A Novel Of Suspense (9 page)

“I’m
going to confront Ms Raymeady’s assumptions head on.  If she believes there is
some sort of demon at work then I will first seek to disprove that.”

“How?”

Tim
smiled.  “Best way to get a bear’s attention is to poke it.”

Angela
didn’t know what that meant, but she had a feeling things would only get weirder.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Angela
sat patiently on an antique chair while Tim hefted his equipment up to the
first floor.  He was amassing it in a cluttered circle outside of Sammie’s
room.  Frank had agreed to help with the experiments and was currently inside
with Sammie, setting up some infrared cameras, microphones, and seismographs. 
Tim had explained to her that he would be able to record the data and video
feeds onto a laptop twenty-four hours a day.  It all seemed like silly videogames
to Angela – boys and their toys – but she was determined to show Tim, and his
methods, the proper respect.  They were colleagues after all.

Tim
came up the stairs, now on his fourth equipment run.  This time he was carrying
what looked like a doctor’s saddle bag.  “That’s everything,” he said, wiping
sweat from his forehead with his free hand.

Angela
stood up from her chair and nodded to the satchel he was carrying.  “What’s in
the bag?”

“Medical
supplies.  I want to see if Sammie is physically healthy before we explore anything
else.”

“Are
you qualified to perform medical tests?”

“Nope,
but I haven’t been sued yet.  Besides, it’s not as hard as it looks.”

Frank
opened the door to Sammie’s rooms and stepped outside to join them.  “Your
equipment is all set up.  What’s all the rest of this junk you’ve left out
here?”

“Oh,
you know, just an Ecto Containment Unit, proton packs, the usual.”

Frank
stared at Tim blankly.

Tim
shook his head and sniffed.  “That was a joke.  The small machine that looks
like a coffee maker is a blood analyser.  The larger machine on the right is an
ultrasound machine and heart rate monitor.”

“Where
did you get all this stuff?” Angela asked.

“Various
places.  Auctions mostly, but some stuff I got pretty cheap from China.  They
don’t give a shit who they’re selling to over there.”

Angela
stood beside one of the cherub statues outside Sammie’s door.  “Let’s get
started then.”

Frank
backed them as they walked into the bedroom.  Tim brought his doctor’s bag with
him and set it down on a nearby dresser against the wall.  He opened the clasp
at the top and pulled the two sides apart, then reached in and pulled out a
syringe.

“What
do you plan on doing with that?” Frank demanded.

“I
thought I would use it to play darts.”  He sighed.  “What do you
think
I’m going to do with it?  I’m going to draw some blood.”

“He’s
already been poked and prodded enough.  I don’t know what you have to learn.”

“Well,”
said Tim.  “If you don’t mind, I would like to take a small amount of blood
anyway.”

“You’re
very welcome,” came Sammie’s reply from the far side of the room.  The boy was
looking out of the large bay window that stood in front of his crayon-covered desk. 
For the first time since Tim had arrived, Sammie was wearing clothes.

Frank
rubbed at his eyes and shrugged.  The man seemed extremely tired.  “Well, I
suppose if Sammie doesn’t mind…just do what you need to do.”

Tim
nodded and headed over to Sammie, who had already rolled up one of his shirt
sleeves to offer out his veiny arm.  There was a knowing smile on the boy’s face
that made Angela feel uncomfortable even from ten feet away and just observing.

“Okay,
Sammie,” Tim said soothingly.  “This will just feel like a little pinch.”

“It’s
okay.  Pain doesn’t bother me, Mr Golding.  Go ahead and take your blood.”

Angela
watched in anticipation while Tim rubbed Sammie’s arm with a disposable swab. Next,
he uncapped the syringe and placed the nib against the boy’s flesh.  Angela
moved up closer, mainly to get a closer look at Tim’s medical skills, but also
because she wanted to be nearby if Sammie had another bout of aggression.  She
needed to watch Tim’s back the same way he had watched hers.

Tim
prodded the needle against Sammie’s skin, but there seemed to be resistance. The
nib unable to penetrate the skin.  Tim moved the needle away and repositioned
it somewhere else along the boy’s arm.  He pushed the needle again.  Angela
cringed as the needle scratched against flesh.

Sammie
was smiling politely.  “Is there a problem, Mr Golding?” 

“I…er…I
am finding it hard to break a vein.”

“Perhaps
you should try harder.”

Tim
cleared his throat and suddenly seemed very nervous.  Angela wasn’t sure, but
his hands might have been shaking as he continued struggling with the needle. He
still seemed unable to break the skin.

Tim
prodded and poked, stabbed and pricked.  Eventually the needle went in. 

It
went in deep.

A
torrent of blood arced high into the air. The dark-red arterial spray soaked
Tim’s face.  He stumbled back, spluttering and spitting.  His thighs hit
against Sammie’s desk and he tumbled onto his knees. 

Angela
ran forward to help her colleague, but quickly realised it was Sammie who
needed the help.  The boy was bleeding badly, his bodily fluids jetting into the
air in a fountain of gore, puddling on the floor in a grisly lake.

“Jesus
Christ,” Frank shouted as he rushed across the room.  “What the hell have you
done?  Jesus!”

Sammie
snarled at Frank as he approached and spat a mouthful of viscous black fluid
right into his face.  Frank clutched at his cheek and was clearly disgusted by
the foul liquid that came away on his hands.

“Blasphemer!”
Sammie bellowed

Angela
stood still, in shock and unable to move.

Then
the bleeding stopped, as suddenly as it had started.  The arc of blood
disappeared as if someone had turned off a tap inside the boy’s heart.  Sammie
turned slowly to face the bay window and seemed almost to slither towards it. 
He sat down at the chair of his drawing desk and started sketching with his
crayons.  His bare feet had left blood prints on the plush cream carpet.

“What
the fuck just happened?” Frank shouted at the top of his lungs.

“I
have no idea,” said Tim.  “A syringe can’t open up an artery like that. And
bleeding that heavy doesn’t just stop either.”

Angela
bent forward, the tang of fresh blood taking her mind to a place of nightmares
and misery.  “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Tim
came and put an arm around her.  “Come on.  Let’s get out of here until we can
think this through.”

“Yes,”
said Sammie, sketching away calmly.  “Why don’t you all just GET THE FUCK OUT
OF HERE AND LEAVE ME ALONE?”

The
boy’s voice was the deep baritone of a circus strongman, not that of a skinny,
ten-year old boy.  The words were so loud and full of bass that Angela’s ears
rattled against her skull.  The surprise of it stopped her dead in her tracks
for a moment, but Tim gently pulled on her arm and got her moving again.

“I
don’t know if we should leave him,” she said.  “Maybe we should go get a
doctor.”

Tim
continued dragging her towards the door.  “He’s fine.  Look at him. It’s like
nothing ever happened.  Anyway, I got what I needed.”

“And
what was that?”

“I
got Sammie’s blood,” said Tim.  “It’s all over me.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“You
need to get those con artists out of this house,” Frank told Jessica. She was
currently lying in her bed, trying to sleep off a hangover.  “They almost
killed Sammie just now.  There was blood everywhere.”

Jessica
sat bolt upright.  The urgency returned to her eyes at the news of her son
having been in danger.  “What?  Sammie?  Is he okay?  Frank, tell me.”

Frank
ran a hand over his throbbing forehead.  “He’s fine, somehow.  I don’t quite
know what happened to be honest, but I know it started when that ginger-headed
clown stuck a needle in your son’s arm.”

“Where
is everybody now?”

“Sammie
is drawing at his desk.  Angela and Tim are somewhere in the house planning
their next performance.”

Jessica
patted the bed beside her and, reluctantly, Frank sat down on the spot she’d
indicated.  Jessica began to rub his shoulders.  “Frank, you promised me that
you would give this a go.  These two people are the only hope I have left.  I
know that you don’t agree with their methods, but let’s just see what they come
up with.  I fear Sammie is doomed otherwise.”

“I
think he’s in more danger
since
they turned up, but…”  He sighed.  It
was pointless arguing, nor was it his place.  “If that’s what you want, Jessica.”

“Thank
you, Frank.”  She began kissing the nape of his neck and stroked his chest.  He
stood up quickly, not because he was adverse to her touch, but because he knew
he couldn’t deal with the distraction right now.

“I
need to get back downstairs,” he said. “Keep an eye on things.”

“When
was the last time you slept, Frank?  You’re not usually this rattled.”

Maybe
if you were sober a little more often I wouldn’t need to be so alert all the
time.

“I’m
fine,” Frank told her.  “I just want this situation dealt with, so we can all
go back to normal.”

“Me
too, Frank.  I appreciate your loyalty this last year.  I couldn’t have coped
without you.”

You
aren’t coping...

“It’s
been my pleasure, Ms Raymeady.  I take it you will be joining us this evening?”

Jessica
must have caught the disapproving look in his eyes because her reply was short
and clipped.  “I will be down shortly.”

“Very
good, ma’am.”  Frank opened the door of the master bedroom and departed.  The
penthouse floor of the house was the most lavish of all and Frank hated it.  It
represented the dirty money of Black Remedy and the wealth of its late owner. 
Joseph may have been a better man than his father, but the opulence he
inherited was still stained with blood and corruption.  Now that Joseph was
dead, the Black Remedy Corporation would no doubt become an even bigger cesspit
of immoral greed.  Jessica would inherit half of the company, but Frank knew
that she was weak.  Her late husband’s business partner, Vincent Black, would
run rings around her until he was in complete control of the company.  By the
time little Sammie grew up, his mother would probably be left with nothing. 
From billionaire housewife to destitute widow in less than a decade; that was
how Black Remedy worked.  You were either a man-eating lion or you got eaten
alive.  Jessica was a wounded pony, doomed to visit the abattoir and her
suffering would only get worse. 

Unfortunately,
he loved her.

At
least for the time being, Frank could do his best to protect Jessica and
Sammie.  Whatever happened in the future he would have to deal with then, but
for now there were more pressing matters to attend to. 

He
headed into Joseph’s former office at the east end of the penthouse and
unlocked it with his master keys.  Frank knew what he was looking for and
didn’t hesitate in going over to the wall-safe behind the broad, walnut desk taking
up half the room.  After keying in the combination and swinging open the hatch,
Frank fumbled between the various papers and wads of cash until he placed his
hand around a wooden grip handle.  He pulled the police-issue Glock 17 handgun
out of the safe and checked that it was loaded.  It was.  He slipped the weapon
into his trousers and pulled his suit jacket over the top to keep it hidden.

I
don’t know what those two clowns are planning, but I’ll make sure they’ll think
twice before trying to take advantage of Jessica.  Any more of Sammie’s blood
hits the floor and I’ll make them sorry.

Frank
closed up the safe and took a seat in Joseph’s high-backed leather chair.  He
pressed a button on his ex-boss’s computer and waited while the hard drive
whizzed to life, loading the operating system.  Frank felt small sitting at the
grand desk, surrounded by shelves full of books he could never hope to
understand. He wasn’t a big enough man to fill his boss’ shoes and he wondered
what Joseph Raymeady would have made of the feelings Frank had for his wife. 
Joseph was a fair man, but loyalty was important to him.  Frank knew that his
behaviour would have brought out the darker side of his employer.  
Who would
blame him, though
?  Jessica might be a widow, but Frank still felt like he
was betraying her late husband.  He felt like Judas.

You’re
not doing anything wrong,
Frank told himself. 
You’re
protecting the man’s family.  He would have wanted that.  The fact that she’s
one of the richest women in the world and as emotionally involved as you are is
just a bonus.