Grave Doubts by Elizabeth Corley Page B

on his sweaty face. He pulled and twisted until the ropes bit into his flesh. When he collapsed back against the cushions, his skin was pale and greasy. For a moment the intruder feared that he was going to choke and he didn’t want him to die that way, but the moment passed and he relaxed a little.
    ‘Hello, Mr Saunders.’ His voice was conversational, mild even, but he knew that his eyes would betray his true feelings and he enjoyed this moment of play. ‘Now, you may not know me, but I know you through a mutual acquaintance who is very displeased with you. That probably leaves you with a long list but let me reduce it for you. This person is still inside.’
    A look of confusion crossed Saunders’ face.
    ‘Still too many? Oh well, this is dull anyway. Do you know a nice boy called Wayne Griffiths? Yes, that’s right, funny little Wayne has friends in high places. I bet you didn’t count on that when you began to bully and abuse him.’
    Saunders was squirming again now, his eyes bulging above the gag. The man laughed, enjoying the show.
    ‘I’ve been planning this little scenario ever since he told me about you and I’ve had plenty of opportunity to refine what I’m going to do. My only problem is that I have so many ideas and we have so little time. Ideally, we should spend a whole day together. I’d like that.’
    Saunders tried to scream against the gag. With a superhuman effort the guard lurched upwards, rubbing his shins raw, and the settee jumped an inch in the air.
    ‘Hmm, tricky. You might be more agile than I’ve given you credit for. I’m going to need a little more help. Don’t go away.’
    He sprinted out to the kitchen and rummaged in his leather bag, talking to himself.
    ‘My little bag of tricks. Ooh, Saunders, I bet you’d love to know what I’ve got in here for you. Here we are.’ He sounded like a little boy who had found a long lost toy.
    He knotted a length of yellow climber’s rope into a noose and forced it over Saunders’ head. It tightened immediately and by the time he had secured the loose end around the bannister in the hall, Saunders was blue in the face and gasping for air.
    He eased some slack through the knot and watched patiently as the cyanosis faded and his victim resumed the more normal pallor associated with terror.
    ‘That’s better. I don’t want you dying prematurely. We may not have a lot of time but what we have I want to enjoy.’ He glanced at his new Italian watch.
    ‘It’s almost two forty-five now and I very much doubt that you’ll be missed before the eight o’clock shift. What time do you normally arrive I wonder? Not early so that gives us six hours. Plenty of time!’
    Saunders had subsided into a confused stupor, exhausted by his previous asphyxia and already terrified into some sort of dumb acceptance. The man sensed that further words, delicate, almost sensual threats that he had rehearsed silently so many times, would have little effect. He brought his accessories into the living room and started to arrange them on the carpet between the television and the couch. He paused to stare at the pornography on the screen and the sight of it made him grin broadly.
    ‘A fitting backdrop, don’t you think? If the pain gets too much you can always try and focus on the three of them. But first, I want to show you what I’ve brought for our mutual amusement.
    ‘I’ve chosen a simple theme – “do it yourself” – I rather liked that though I’ve never been much of a handyman so I’m afraid I haven’t had much practice but I don’t think that will spoil things.’
    As he spoke he set out his props: three sharpened screwdrivers, two pairs of pliers, electric wire, a hammer, a hacksaw and small electric drill.
    ‘There. All set. We just need to decide where to start.’ He glanced over his shoulder, momentarily distracted by the sights on the screen.
    ‘Well, will you look at that!’ He said with glee. ‘Inspiration. Off we go then.’
    He