Chapter 46 Top Floor Prison
There was not much more to say and as far as Jo was concerned, Martin had a very strong feeling that Goodall wouldn’t kill her. He had a trump card and he could play in any direction with her alive. Martin had managed to persuade his immediate boss that Goodall was a double agent and was able to furnish proof to him, but it was another thing to prove it to the rest of MI5, the Prime Minister and the Home Office Bosses that Goodall was playing them suckers with his constant visits to the Russian Embassy for evening dinners with top secret papers and receiving in return nothing much more than an confidential file on farming and such other trivial issues.
Martin replaced the telephone and looked up and Goodall was in the doorway with a medical collar. He walked stiffly into the office and collected a file that had been placed on his desk during that morning. He glared at Martin. The hint of hatred within his eyes told Martin everything he wanted to know about the man. He got to the doorway, turned and gave Martin a smile. It was the kind of smile that reminded him of The Barchester Chronicles character Obadiah Slope, with his servile manner of rubbing his hands together and giving a creepy kind of look that suggested he had the upper hand. Goodall never said a word. He left as he had come, his chin pointing slightly upwards and transfixed in one position. He picked up two walking sticks outside the office door and was gone.
* * *
Graham Goodall walked towards the lift and pressed the button to go up. He went beyond the floor where his superior’s offices were. It was a floor that wasn’t used by any staff as only a few rooms had been built and with staff cuts, it wasn’t necessary for anyone to work there. It was the safest place to keep Jo. She was kept in a room that was well tucked away from lifts and staircases. It was somewhere that only Goodall and two of his other men were privy to.
She was chained by the ankle, the end of the chain was attached to a tubular bar fixed into the outside wall of the room. It gave just enough freedom for her to go from room to room. One room was fitted with a makeshift bed and a chemical toilet. Her meals were secretly served by one of the three men on rotation. She had complained about her ankle being sore, having to have this metal manacle clasped around her ankle and was hoping they would remove it. But they only supplied some thick padding and a bandage to lessen the discomfort.
Jo heard the outer door open and Goodall walked in discarding the neck brace and throwing the walking sticks aside. The door of her room opened and in he walked with her tea and sandwiches. He handed her the food and she sat down dejected and forlorn and hardly nibbled at her sandwiches.
‘Eat up,’ he said sharply to her, ‘We don’t want you to starve yourself.’
She said nothing. Dejection was the name of the game. Jo was crying within herself and she had cried and cried herself silly as soon as Goodall pressed the trigger of his gun and shot Roland twice, little knowing that he was still alive. Even when Goodall threatened her that should she become a nuisance, he wanted someone to kill her. She didn’t care and carried on weeping until someone bludgeoned her with something heavy. It wasn’t heavy enough to kill her, but she was out for a long time.
Goodall walked out of the room and locked the door as a precaution. He donned the collar and picked up the walking sticks, locked the outer door, summoned the lift to go down and went out of the building.
* * *
Martin was in the foyer of the building when Goodall alighted from the lift. He wondered where Goodall had been, and decided to investigate and the only other place he could have been was on the floor they never used. It was a calculated guess and pretty obvious as the only other floors not being used were the boiler room and the two floors above that housed the floor cleaning machines, brooms and dusters and Martin had scoured every square inch of those floors and as nothing was locked up, it was safe to assume that the only other floor would be the very top floor.
It took Martin ages to find the room. It was locked and he didn’t have a key and he was unlikely to find one that fitted. It looked like a new lock that had been especially made. It was not a sound proof room, he was pretty sure of that. He shouted as loud as he could muster as he had to compete with the air conditioning that the engineers hadn’t been able turn off on this floor. Some of the other floors had no heating in the winter and no air conditioning in the summer either. It was one of those jinxes that the engineers could never get to the bottom of with any solution they had thought of. He was answered by a muffled voice. Martin was heartened by the response and he was sure it was Joanna. He must telephone Roland and tell him that he was certain that Jo was still alive.
He arrived home and telephoned the hotel. Roland had gone out to do some shopping and hadn’t returned. Martin said he would ring later.
Chapter 47 Window Shopping
Roland called at the police station to see if there was any news about the man who had impersonated a member of the hotel staff. They informed Roland that the flat had been ransacked to look like a burglary and the man was found with a knife in his back.
Not good news for Roland. He left to do some shopping. He found a shop that had all the items he wanted. He needed shaving items, a few razor blades for his stubble. Roland was the old school, never used an electric razor, always meaning to but never got round to it. He also needed a couple of bars of soap and a replacement flannel as the one he purchased on Paradise Island had fallen to pieces and a bottle of bubble bath. He thought he would try the green colour this time. Roland went by colour, not by name. The last one was red and that was soothing. He paid the attractive looking brunette and went on his way. Plenty of people milling around but he became aware that he was being followed and when looking in another shop window, saw the reflection of someone who was just standing and leaning against a lamppost reading a newspaper.
Martin nipped into a gentlemen’s clothing shop, picked up two pairs of trousers that he knew to be too large for him and asked the assistant if he could try them on. He was told to go to the rear of the shop where there were changing rooms. Once inside he undid his shopping and placed the items he had bought on the chair and selected the razor blades. He cut a quarter size of soap and embedded a razor blade inside it. It was hard work as the soap wasn’t giving in easily. He would need to ask if they had a toilet on the premises that he could use stating he had a embarrassing problem. The blades were wrapped individually and he unwrapped one blade and hid it in his long sleeve pullover that had a natural turned up cuff and by cutting the sewn edges he was able to hide the blade, hoping he was not going to cut himself into the bargain. He told the assistant that the trousers didn’t fit as he had picked up the wrong pair to try on, but in the mean time as he jigged up and down for effect, could he use their loo. The assistant was very obliging and showed Roland to the gent’s toilet.
Once inside he thought he might as well take the opportunity and washing his hands afterwards, using the piece of soap he had cut with the blade, embedded the blade within the soap and placed it in a piece of paper in his jacket pocket. This was the gadget that would be found.
He tried on a pair of trousers his size. He liked the colour and he purchased them and walked out of the shop. Roland seemed to have a sixth sense that something was going to happen to him. He didn’t much care about his own safety and his heart was low thinking about Joanna and what fate had befallen her and whether he was ever going to see her again.
He moved on and looking into another window, saw a reflection of the same man. Roland went into the shop and hadn’t looked at the shop name and came out quickly feeling embarrassed as it sold only ladies personal things.
One man had turned into two and both came up to him and one jabbed a hard object into his back and said ‘Get into the car. No don’t try to be a hero, just get into the car.’ Roland had no option and as soon as he entered the car he was clobbered and darkness came over him.
