I tried to say something but the attacker flipped me from the chair and suddenly my mouth was full of carpet. Martin bent down.
‘If you wanted Dupree this badly then you’ll want me with sugar on. I can’t have that. So I’ll say my goodbyes.’
The bastard kissed the tips of his fingers, reached down and patted me on the head. I looked up and saw the smile leave his face.
‘So different. It should have all been so different.’
I struggled to get up but my attacker and the man from the Spanish photo were good for the game and I was pinned to the floor. The first fist caught me behind the ear — the knuckleduster slicing open my skull. Snap, crackle and pop and the second fist mashed my nose to mince.
Just the beginning. I tried to curl into a ball. Just the beginning.
The door to the room closed as the bastard left and it was time for more pain. The attacker reached between my legs and grabbed at my balls. The squeeze was so hard it felt like one of them burst. A thumb searched for my left eye socket and a forefinger for my right — fluid spurted and darkness fell.
Then they got serious.
Chapter 61
Hi I’m back. Are you still there? Of course you are. Was the diary interesting? I bet it was. Giles has done a wonderful job. Hasn’t he?
Sorry it finished in August. As you may have gathered things didn’t go well after my meeting with Martin. Not well at all. In fact it is a miracle I’m still here. Four months in hospital on account of the beating I took.
I’ve lost the sight in both eyes. The doctors have told me I’ll be blind for life. Both my legs are useless. One of the kicks — or maybe it was a couple of the kicks in Martin’s office broke my back and severed my spinal chord. I’ll never walk. I can’t even piss on my own. My left lung will never work again and the damage to my kidneys means I will need a transplant, but I’ll not be high on the priority list. My pancreas is shot and my liver isn’t much better. The doc says that he is amazed I’m still here.
I can’t use either of my arms. A stroke took care of that a couple of months ago.
Sorry I had to duck out there but everyday at twelve o’clock they take me away for a little physiotherapy. Not that it does much good but I’m hardly in a fit state to refuse.
I don’t get many visitors. Rachel came by with my stuff a while back but she said little. Giles Taylor showed up and he has been a good friend in these last few months.
He was a wonder with the digital recordings. His patience was startling. You can’t believe how much nonsense was stored away on that little recorder’s memory. He interrogated me like a good one, to add meat to the bones, and I had him read it all back to me when he was finished.
I think he should get the damn thing published.
Giles was the first new face in a while and now you are here.
But you’re not a new face.
Are you?
Martin Sketchmore would be closer to the mark.
Wouldn’t it?
Surprised? Thought a little silent treatment would fool me?
Oh I know who you are Mr Sketchmore. I may not be able to see you but I don’t need to. I set up your little visit. I take it you got the note — Giles again — about the diary. About the fact that I had put everything I knew in it. Why else would you be here?
Oh I know you are supposed to be from the psychiatrist. A listener — that’s what he called you. A listener. People who are happy to listen to people like me. No hopers. But you’re not, are you? You’re Martin. I can smell the aftershave. You still like Boss.
Well I hope it was worth it? The diary that is. It is what it is but it’s hardly going to be your downfall now is it? I mean what would someone do with it if I had passed it on? Is there anything in there that would cause you much grief? Not really. Anyway I’ll be dead soon and you can have the thing — for what it’s worth. So no worries there then.
I bet you were surprised as fuck to hear I had made it out of your office alive. Must have come as a shock to find out I was still breathing.
Your boys left me for dead. They dumped me in a rubbish skip at the back of the Lloyds insurance building. Like yesterday’s rubbish. I’m sure they thought I was dead and I wasn’t far from it. The bin men found me in the morning. It took a fourteen hour operation to save me. That and six more operations and I’m still worth shit.
Now look at me. What good am I to man or beast? I’m sure there are people out there who are in a worse state then me and wake up every morning thanking their God that they are alive — but not me. I can’t live like this. I’ve been lying here for weeks and all I can think of is what you did to me. How you ripped away my life. Played me like a fiddle and then tried to have me killed.
I wish you had succeeded.
You talk about revenge and how you obsessed. Wasn’t that your word? Obsessed over me. Well Martin I’ve obsessed over you. Far more than I obsessed over Dupree. Must be in my nature.
I’ve done more obsessing in the last few weeks than you would think possible. I’ve spent every waking minute thinking of ways to get back at you.
Remember Giles’s story about the boy in the window looking down on the street. Well I don’t think he did know what was going on. Not really. Deep down he was missing the big picture. You see what was going on down in the street wasn’t really anything to do with him. He wasn’t part of it. He was just a bystander. Watching. Not understanding.
A bit like you at the moment.
You’re a bit of a bystander. A watcher. Not a listener. No, if you were a real listener you might have picked up a few clues along the way. A few hints that gave away that I knew who you were.
But you didn’t listen. Not really. And that will cost you.
It was Giles who gave me the idea. You might not know this but Giles hates you. Not as much as I do, but he hates you all the same. He’s told me all about the errands and humiliation you have put him through since he retired.
It seems that I underestimated you. I always knew you had an evil streak but Giles is an old man who only wants a quiet life and you keep dragging him back into a world he long ago thought he had seen the last of.
So we got chatting, Giles and I, and, as I said, it was his idea. Well at least in part. It wasn’t the cleverest of ideas. It doesn’t have to be. Getting you here was the easy bit. The next bit is a little tougher.
I’m sure you’ve heard of an I.E.D. They’re on the news all the time. Improvised Explosive Devices. All the rage in Iraq and Afghanistan.
I suppose you also know that we are in a private wing of the hospital. The rooms either side are empty. Have been for a few days. There are new people due in tomorrow but I think they may have to find other accommodation.
When Giles first came up with the idea, I was supposed to come back from my physio session and find that someone had blown the crap out of my room. You would be in the middle of it. The casualty of a bizarre crime. Pay back complete.
That was Giles’s idea. But I couldn’t leave it at that. I needed to know you had read the diary. I needed you to know what I have gone through. I needed you to have every little detail of my life in your head. After all, you were the one who said you obsessed on me. You must have a serious obsession to sit through my life story in silence, to read the diary and even now to sit there and say nothing.