Page 43 of Deposed

Mr. Carbuncle didn’t answer for several moments, but he continued t heavy, excited breaths that make me cringe. Eventually, he said, “A reporter cornered me at the start of the spring term.”

“This is the first I’m hearing of your involvement with the press,” said the man at the door.

“You know what reporters are like.” I let my voice carry. “They probably found out Mr. Carbuncle had a criminal record and blackmailed him.”

“I’ve never been inside,” snapped the janitor.

“Oh.” I paused. “Then someone must have told them about what you do with school girls.”

Mr. Carbuncle swooped down and snatched my neck with such ferocity, he cut off my supply of oxygen. “Shut your fucking mouth!”

A scream caught in the base of my throat, and my eyes bulged. I batted at his hand with my bound hands and kicked at his legs with my bound feet. Tepid water, presumably from the spilled can, seeped into the fabric of my jeans. I’d hit a nerve, but if I couldn’t get him to release his strangling grip, I’d die of asphyxiation.

“Get off her,” said the man. “Now!”

“You keep quiet,” Mr. Carbuncle snarled through clenched teeth, splattering droplets of spittle onto my face. “Keep quiet, or I’ll snap your neck.” He lowered his face to mine and gripped harder. His harsh tone implied he would snap my neck later, whether I kept his secret or not.

My eyes bulged, and I tried to move my lips, but no sound came out. With my gaze locked onto his crazed, bloodshot eyes, I nodded.

The janitor released his grip and shoved me so hard, my head bounced on the parquet floor.

“I mean it, Carbuncle,” said the man. “If you touch her again today, we’ll cut you out of the deal, and you’ll get no share in the ransom.”

My breaths came in labored pants, and my sore throat convulsed with relief. The man at the door had a business partner. Charlotte, most likely, who had lured me to the apartment building in the first place. But what if he wasn’t the headmaster or Mr. Frost? What if he was the man who had paid for Charlotte’s academy fees and cosmetic surgeries?

Mr. Carbuncle stepped back, but his scuffed boots remained in my line of sight.

I rolled up to a sitting position and shuffled out from the dust sheet and propped myself up against the wall. If they were going to kill me, they could leave DNA evidence and get themselves caught.

“You were saying, Miss Hobson?” asked the man. “What exactly does Mr. Carbuncle do with girls?”

My gaze flickered to the janitor, who stiffened.

Trepidation skittered down my spine and settled into my roiling stomach. Would the threat of not getting his share of the money be enough to stave off his violent impulses? Did it matter, if the man would allow Mr. Carbuncle to do worse with each passing day Rudolph didn’t pay the ransom?

I gulped in several deep breaths to steady myself and spoke. “W-when Mr. Chaloner kicked down the door to his lodge, we found him face-down between the legs of an upper-sixth former. That’s the bribe he takes from the girls. M-mostly with Ch-Charlotte Underwood and her friends.”

The room went silent, and I flinched. When the blows didn’t arrive, I peeked up through my lashes. Perhaps the unknown man wanted me intact for the first round of photos, so he could show a daily progression of additional beatings and force Rudolph’s hand.

“Charlotte,” said the man, his voice laden with menace.

Mr. Carbuncle shot me a venomous look. His hands curled into fists and he jerked forward. “She’s lying.”

I clamped my mouth shut and raised my bound hands over my face.

“He rapes them?” asked the man.

The janitor’s quickened breaths filled my eardrums.

I blurted, “They all come to him willingly and exchange sexual favors for help.”

“What kind of… help?” asked the man through clenched teeth.

My gaze flicked up to Mr. Carbuncle. The mustache that took up most of the middle of his face quivered with malevolence. My stomach churned, and I reminded myself that the only way I might get through this ordeal was to create discord among my abductors.

“When a girl forgets her keys and is locked out of her room, she needs to go to Mr. Carbuncle.”

The man’s back stiffened. “What?”