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  Mr. King stepped forward, nodding to someone behind us as he did. The man holding Jane let her go but rushed forward to put his knife to Big Ben's neck instead. He was joined by others. Big Ben was the threat, and everyone knew it. The sweet, little blonde girl wasn't.

  The danger of Big Ben now effectively neutralised, Mr. King took control of proceedings once more. He stepped around the large wicker basket full of snakes, brushed by his son and came to me. He held out his right hand to his side. A lacky placed a wicked looking blade into it. Then he held out his left hand to me.

  I looked at it dumbly. He motioned with his fingers for me to step forward. I saw no choice.

  ‘Amanda?' Patience wailed as I moved toward him. She was as terrified as I. What could I do though? I was just a woman. A poor, defenceless woman. Concealed in my hand, no one had seen the knife I still held.

  Mr King continued to address the crowd, ‘My people. Let us celebrate this night anyway. Fresh sacrifices will be found, and we will hold the wedding ceremony soon.' He lifted his knife above his head. He was watching the crowd, raising them to a clamouring fervour as they begged for blood. Then, he turned his eyes in my direction and reached out to grab me. I lunged and stabbed him in the throat with my tiny blade.

  Until that moment I wasn’t sure I could do it. I was terrified almost beyond the capacity for rational thought. I was ready to pee myself, but somehow, I was also angry. Angry that Big Ben was considered to be a threat and I was not. Angry that they had dismissed me as defenceless. Angry that I was wishing someone, even a man, would come to my rescue. I doubted that injuring Mr King would aid my cause, but he deserved it and I was damned if I was going to meekly let him kill me.

  Stunned by the blow to his throat, he froze, his left-hand letting go its grip on my arm. He coughed once, blood visible on his lips, then before anyone could react, I kicked him in his spuds and shoved him backward into the basket of snakes.

  That’ll teach him!

  Mrs. King screamed, her mouth a horrified circle of disbelief. Mr. King thrashed for a few seconds as the snakes attacked the sudden weight pressing down on them, then lay still, my blade still sticking out of his throat.

  ‘Aaaargggh!’ screamed Bartholomew as he grabbed the knife his father had dropped and ran at me. He never made it though. As he took his first step in my direction his right shoulder exploded. One moment it was there and the next it was not. The deafening sound of a gunshot followed a nanosecond later to tell us what was going on and my heart skipped as I saw black uniforms spilling into the room.

  Shouted orders were being barked as armed Police swarmed into the crowd before they could work out what was going on. The voodoo disciples were being thrown to the floor with weapons trained on them, daring them to resist.

  Big Ben seized his chance, elbowed the man behind him hard in the face, took his weapon and then moved to make sure no one escaped down the passage behind the altar. Wherever it went, no one was going to get by the angry giant guarding it now.

  I grabbed Jane by the arm, pulled her toward me and put a protective arm around Patience. Big Ben, Jane and I stood out as the only white people in the room, but Patience looked like all the other crazed voodoo buttholes. I didn't want the armed officers to seize her in their desire to make the room safe.

  ‘Amanda.' The call brought my face up. It was Tempest. He had come in behind the uniforms. He was unarmed and wearing civilian clothes. He looked tired and a little beaten like he had endured a hard week. I was willing to bet I could top whatever fun he had had in Cornwall. ‘Amanda.' He called again as he made his way across the room. The Police were dealing with the voodoo crazies and were leaving us alone. They would get to us soon enough.

  As Tempest neared, I saw CI Quinn enter the room behind him. No doubt this would be recorded as his bust now. To hell with it, I was just glad to be alive. Tempest reached the central Dais, ‘Amanda… oh, ah, you don't seem to be wearing very much.' Tempest was looking at the ceiling in a bid to not stare at me. I had been naked for so long and surrounded by so many naked people that I had forgotten my lack of clothing. ‘Um, none of you do, actually.' He said taking in Big Ben, Jane, and Patience.

  He turned around. ‘Can we get some clothing over here please?’

  Press Conference. Friday, 4th November 0245hrs

  About half an hour later, I was sitting on a blanket with another blanket around me. Hot tea and bacon sandwiches had been rustled up from somewhere and I had on bits and pieces of clothing that different people had given up. Tempests’ jacket, some spare police boots from the back of squad car. A pair of slightly smelly jogging bottoms from a gym bag. I was covered though and that was good enough. They had found Patience’s clothes and Big Ben’s and Jane had used some duct tape to stick her dress back together. The clothes I had arrived in were still missing.

  We were still in the chamber under the house. CI Quinn was coordinating all movement in and out, or at least he had several officers that were doing that for him. I expected that soon we would be given the all-clear to leave by the paramedics that were currently checking over Big Ben and they would want us out of the way.

  The voodoo community was already gone. Every last one of them had been led in handcuffs out through the entrance the police had burst in through, even the five drugged up naked girls. The only exception to that had been the Kings. Mr. King was pronounced very dead at the scene by an efficient-looking doctor that came with the paramedics. Bartholomew had needed treatment for pain and to stop the blood loss as the bullet that went through his shoulder had made a real mess and broken some bones on its way. Mrs. King, having seen her husband die, her son get shot and her entire criminal world come tumbling down, had retreated into a state of shock. She had left on a stretcher. Handcuffed, but on a stretcher nevertheless.

  I finished my tea and set the cup down on the floor next to me.

  ‘The press are here.’ Someone said, their voice echoing in the underground room. My eyes found Quinn. He was instantly straightening his tie and checking to make sure his uniform looked good. I wondered if the Chief Constable was on his way.

  ‘How are you doing?’ the voice was Tempest’s. I turned to where it had come from. He was checking on Big Ben and talking with the paramedics. They clearly wanted Big Ben to go to the hospital with them. He was laughing at them and shaking his head. Next to him, and holding his hand, was Patience. They had both been through a lot, maybe they would find comfort in each other.

  Or maybe they both just fancied a shag and it was too late in the day to find anyone else.

  Tempest nodded, chucked Big Ben on the shoulder with a fist and crossed the floor to me.

  I had a question for him, ‘How did you find me?' We hadn't yet had any chance to talk since the police had swooped in. I had been struggling with several emotions ever since. Relief at seeing him. Even more relief that I was not going to be bitten to death by snakes, but then anger that I had been rescued when I specifically wanted to rescue myself and not have a man save me like I was a damned damsel in distress. I was also curious about what his week in Cornwall had been like. He had on outdoor clothing, the type one might wear for hill walking or rock climbing, but it was dirty as if he had been fighting. His knuckles were bruised and cut in places and there were several faint marks on his face.

  The dominant thought though was how he came to find me. Even I didn't know where I was. Or at least I hadn't. Big Ben had told me that we were still on the Kings' property, somewhere deep beneath their house.

  In answer to my question, he said, ‘Your car.'

  I wondered what he meant for a moment, then remembered that I had left it outside someone’s house. Like most villages, parking was at a premium so parking without a permit was limited to two hours. I had not expected to be that long when I parked it.

  ‘I went to the station and made a lot of noise until they checked to see where your cars were. They had squad cars do a drive by everyone's properties. Patience's car was at her
house, Jane's was at hers, but I called her house phone and got a tearful Simon explaining that she was missing. Both your car and Big Ben's had been towed from close to here. It took a little doing and I had to have a word with our friend Quinn where I made it clear I would expose his deliberate lack of effort if he didn't get off his butt and act. One of the other Officers whispered that you had reported Patience missing already and it was being largely ignored.'

  He had saved me. He had driven back from the other side of the country, coerced a senior police officer that hated him into action, found me and had genuinely saved the day. I felt like kissing him. I also felt like berating him for saving me, but I knew that my anger really should be focused inwards. I should have told Jane where I was going, I should have been better prepared. I should have done something to save myself.

  Instead, I stood up and gave him a hug. He stiffened, unsure how to react or where to put his hands. I liked that about him, he was quite awkward around me in a way that he wasn't with anyone else.

  As I broke the hug, he quickly found something to talk about, ‘Did you get a chance to speak to Patience? Find out how she got here?'

  I nodded, then I told him about it. She had answered a knock on her door late on Tuesday evening and had been tasered the second she opened it. After that, she didn't remember much else and suspected they had given her Rohypnol or another, similar narcotic that could have induced the confused and compliant state she found herself in. Like me, she had woken up naked but had not really noticed until the drug had finally started wearing off earlier today. By then she was in a group of other women, all naked and being given instructions. She played along, hoping a chance to escape would arise but she did not know where she was, and it was only just before she saw me that she first saw Mrs. King and understood who had taken her.

  There had been a flurry of activity many hours before she was led into the chamber where I was held, she was trying to judge time without a clock or daylight as a reference and struggling to work out how long it had been. I had been tasered around noon and it was after midnight when Tempest arrived with the police. I had been out for half a day and they had kept Patience captive for more than two. Patience said she had tried whispering to the other girls, they didn’t respond, even when she poked them. Whatever drug they had used to create the catatonic state was good stuff. No doubt the hospital would work out what it was later.

  She had seen the Kings and lots of men with weapons and a basket of snakes and lots and lots of voodoo shit (her words not mine) and had freaked out so much that by the time she was instructed to paint me for the ceremony she had withdrawn into herself and was numbly doing what she was told. The knife, she said, had been on a shelf in the chamber I was being held in. She had spontaneously grabbed it in passing and stashed it in something I had not heard because I had seen the awful answer coming and had put my fingers in my ears while making a, ‘La, la, la.’ sound to block out what she was saying.

  I had also spoken with Big Ben while Tempest had been off coordinating with the police. He didn't want to talk about his treatment at the hands of the Kings. All he would say was that he got a call from Jane to say that Patience had gone missing and then she couldn't get hold of me and he started snooping. The first place he went was the Kings' house. It was after dark; he broke into the house and was overpowered. He didn't have much more than that to say about it.

  ‘Ben doesn't do emotions.' Tempest said. 'He will deal with it in his own way.'

  It seemed impolite to not ask him about his week away. ‘Jane said you had her looking into pirate ships and treasure while you were away. I thought you were taking some time off to relax.’

  He followed my gaze down to his ripped and dirty clothing. He laughed at himself, ‘It, ah… It turned out to be more adventurous than I had intended. I'll tell you about it later if you like. Shall we check on the others?'

  Tempest and I walked the few feet over to where Big Ben, Patience, and Jane were waiting impatiently. The police had been kind and caring, we were the victims after all, but they didn't, or rather couldn't let us go until they had assessed enough of the crime scene and asked a few questions. That had already happened while the paramedics had been checking each of us over.

  Jane had called her boyfriend, Simon just as soon as she could get hold of a phone. He had reported her absence to the Police last night, the only one of us that was reported missing. Not enough time had elapsed for the police to investigate it yet though. He had arrived twenty minutes ago and was waiting somewhere outside, so Jane was getting quite agitated at being made to hang around. The police trauma management rep had given Jane and the rest of us the number for a counsellor we could talk to. Big Ben had laughed and thrown it away. Patience and I had been more polite about it. I didn’t know if I would have nightmares about today, about Bartholomew. It wasn’t something I wanted to think about now.

  A few more minutes went by while we waited, doing nothing, amid the flurry of activity that surrounded us, and just when I decided I had had enough, a sergeant detached himself from a group that was setting up a small operations post and came to tell us we were free to go.

  I thanked him and turned to make sure everyone was ready. ‘Let’s get the heck out of here.’ Everyone agreed with the sentiment.

  On the way out, we met with more police and more crime scene guys in the corridors. Beneath the Kings' house was chemical storage, a meth lab and goodness knows what else. As I went by one room, I saw Simon and Steve in the distance. White lab suits on, they were inspecting what I took to be chemistry equipment. Seeing them made me remember Kimberly. I would need to call and update her. She would want to know that Bartholomew was gone and would not be coming back. I wouldn't need her toiletries anymore either. No one would be interested in prosecuting a stalker case when he was going down for drug manufacture and distribution and quite possibly murder – how many other people had been snatched and sacrificed over the years?

  A thought occurred to me. ‘Jane.’ I had to turn my head and sort of walk sideways in the corridor, so I could see her. ‘When they kidnapped you, did they say anything about their plans for you?’ I had already asked her about how and when they had grabbed her. It had been as she got home on Thursday afternoon. Three of them had been waiting near her house and had bundled her into a van as she crossed the car park to her house.

  Jane thought about my question for a moment. ‘No. No, I don't think they did, other than to say that I was the lucky one. I did hear them talking when they thought I couldn't hear them. They said something about the girl they wanted disappearing and that Mr. King was lucky to have found a replacement in the nick of time. Any idea what that means?'

  Tempest put his hand on my shoulder to guide me around a pillar as I was not really watching where I was going.

  ‘Thanks.' I mumbled, deep in thought. ‘I think that Bartholomew needed a girl for the ritual tonight. I think that is why he was using the dating site in the first place. Kimberly would have been the intended target or one of the previous girls, but I guess he always put out a disturbing vibe and the girls all shied away. It should have been Kimberly tonight, but we stashed her out of their reach, and he grabbed you because you suddenly popped into his life.'

  ‘That is some disturbing shit.’ Said Big Ben.

  We emerged into the cool night air via a set of concrete steps that led up into a corner of the expansive garden. The rumble of generators powering portable lights could be heard coming from the front of the house. Light from there was creating long shadows. As we rounded the building the noise increased, and we could hear a single voice ahead of us.

  CI Quinn was giving a press report. On the other side of the ornate garden fence, out in the street was a hastily erected podium with microphones attached to the front of it. A boom with a further microphone was being held above his head while three different cameras were trained on him.

  As we closed the distance, I began to make out what he was saying.

&nbs
p; ‘…together with armed officers, the building behind us was stormed at 0137hrs this morning. This follows a lengthy investigation by my department into the Magdalene King and the supply of drugs in this area.’ He was a good orator and played well to the camera. I had seen him on the news before, it was one of the skills that had gained him promotion already and would see him continue to rise. I loathed him.

  This was my bust and he was claiming it as his own.

  ‘The arrests made here tonight will see a marked reduction in crime…’

  ‘Hey, it’s Tempest Michaels.’ One of the reporters shouted, grabbing her cameraman and pointing him right at us. CI Quinn’s voice trailed off as he realised that all attention, and the cameras, had shifted away from him.

  I heard Tempest say a bad word under his breath, but then he raised his arm and waved to the press as they came toward us. We had closed the last few metres and were exiting the grounds of the house to join the press in the street.

  ‘Good evening.' He offered with enthusiasm. ‘Would you like an eyewitness account of tonight's events?' he asked them.

  ‘Mr. Michaels, you are not required, thank you.' CI Quinn cut in loudly.

  The press though was ignoring the man in uniform. They were focused on the rag-tag band of refugees with Tempest Michaels, local minor celebrity, in the centre. Tempest stepped onto the podium next to Quinn, offering the man his hand to shake for the cameras. Quinn returned the smile, failing to hide how false it looked as he took Tempest's hand.

  The reporters were already shouting out questions. ‘How did you become involved in the case? Is it true they were practising voodoo? Is voodoo real, Tempest?’

  Moving to the centre of the podium, which bodily forced the smaller man in uniform to step aside, Tempest addressed the cameras. ‘Thank you, Chief Inspector.' He said with a smile, then he speared the cameras with a serious look. ‘The Kent Police were magnificent this evening, their bravery and determined action led to the successful arrest of an entire criminal organisation. There is an element the Chief Inspector is not aware of though.’ He turned his gaze to me. The cameras followed it and I was instantly pinned in place by several bright lights. ‘My colleague, Amanda Harper investigated this case while I was absent. I have played no part in the apprehension of the Magdalene King; However, the Chief Inspector will confirm that Miss Harper was instrumental in bringing him to justice. Isn't that right, Chief Inspector?' The cameras swung back to Quinn.