Page 73 of Payback

“Good evening, darling.” He sat up and fumbled at the belt of his robe.

Mr. Carbuncle shoved past me and punched Rudolph square in the face. “What the fuck did you do to my mum?”

The old man fell back on the bed, his body bouncing on the mattress.

Wincing, I backed out of the room.

The caretaker turned around and grab me by the arm. “You’re going nowhere.” He threw me onto the bed, and I landed next to Rudolph. “Where is she?”

Rudolph clutched his bleeding nose. “Who are you?”

Mr. Carbuncle lurched forward and grabbed Rudolph by the lapels. “The man whose mother you took. Where is she?”

I rolled off the bed and landed on the floor.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Rudolph.

“Philip works for you, yes?”

“If Philippe offended you, visit him in prison,” cried Rudolph.

“You said his name right. That means you know him!” Mr. Carbuncle shook the old man so hard, his dentures fell out of his mouth and bounced on the wood floor.

My heart jumped into my throat. At any moment, Rudolph would tell the crazy caretaker I was lying, and I’d be the one getting beaten.

As Mr. Carbuncle pummeled into Rudolph, not giving him a chance to catch his breath, I crawled to the foot of the bed, where he had left his shotgun. With the greatest of care, I picked up the weapon and edged to the corner of the room. Mr. Carbuncle rained blow upon blow on Rudolph, reminding me of something Henry and Blake had once discussed: one-punch killings.

It was cold. It was heartless, but if Rudolph survived this beating, he would do more than have me sent to a mental institution in Moldova. If I escaped this hotel room and Mr. Carbuncle gave chase… I shook my head. It would be brutal.

With my free hand, I reached into my jeans pocket, called 999, and left the phone on the floor, hoping that the operator would eventually work out what was happening and trace the call.

Chapter 20

Mr. Carbuncle pummeled into Rudolph, and I sank into the corner at the side of a wingback chair, hugging his shotgun to my chest. It was as though the caretaker had fallen into a rage so blind, he’d forgotten that he needed Rudolph lucid enough to answer his questions. The caretaker’s grunts filled the air. Each smack of his fists into Rudolph’s flesh made my stomach leap into my throat, and each blow landed with such force that Rudolph’s legs jumped.

The door rattled with the weight of a pounding fist. “Mr. Trommel?” said a male voice. “Are you alright?”

“Sir?” shouted another male voice.

My heart pounded so hard, reverberations traveled down every nerve ending in a series of tremors that made every limb shake. A fleeting thought crossed my mind that I wouldn’t be able to handle the gun if Mr. Carbuncle turned his anger on me and that I might hurt myself, but if I moved and attracted his attention, he might turn his fury onto me.

“Sir, we’re coming in.”

A long breath shuddered out of my nostrils. I wished they would burst through the door instead of just talking about it.

Mr. Carbuncle stepped back and stared at Rudolph’s still body. His broad shoulders and barrel-shaped torso expanded and contracted with loud, harsh breaths. From my position on the floor wedged at the side of the chair, I couldn’t tell if Rudolph was still breathing.

The caretaker turned around, his eyes wide and showing their whites, and bared his crooked teeth. “What happened to my mum?”

I opened my mouth and screamed.

With an almighty crash, the door flew off its hinges. Three huge bodyguards rushed into the room and tackled Mr. Carbuncle to the bed. The force of them hitting the mattress knocked Rudolph off onto the floor.

Another bodyguard reached down and snatched the shotgun from my arms. With a few deft movements, he removed the shells, placed the weapon on a nearby table, and yanked me up by the arm. “Tell me what happened, girl.”

Mr. Carbuncle’s outraged roar filled the room and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. The bundle of men rolled off the bed in the direction Rudolph had fallen. A second later, the former caretaker scrambled out from behind the bed and leaped to his feet.

I clapped my free hand over my mouth. “D-don’t let him get away again!”