CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Everything was arranged.
He was ready.
Tying his apron strings and straightening the apron itself he placed all the items except one on a tray.
The remaining one he stuffed into the large open pocket at the front of his apron.
As he descended the stairs he went over in his mind what he was going to do.
He knew it would be very difficult and was extremely risky.
If anything at all went wrong it could be catastrophic.
He unlocked the door and entered.
He placed the tray with all but the item in the pocket of his apron on the table inside and to his right.
Then he turned and closed the door.
*
Paula watched through eyes that were swollen and sore from lack of sleep.
From the back her captor looked to be slightly hunched. It was not something she had noticed about him before. But then, small things like the man’s shoulders or exactly how tall he was she had not registered. They were all incidental.
For Paula the man was nothing but fear. Fear and pain. What he looked like or how he carried himself was of no consequence. The only reason she had noticed his shoulder slouch was because it was the first time she had actually seen him from behind. Every other time he had been in the room with her, and earlier before her agony began, he had never turned his back. She recalled she had thought him average to nice looking and something in back of her memory also told her that she had thought he was considerate and attentive.
Now there was only hate. And dread.
She feared what he had in store for her this time.
*
He carried the small table with the tray on top to the end of the bed.
Again he cast his eyes across everything.
The basket.
The remaining feathers.
Those unused were always to remain in the basket until needed.
The white linen cloth.
The stainless steel bowl.
The sponges.
He refused to look into her eyes or at her nakedness.
His attention was focused elsewhere.
Moving to the left side at the end of the bed, her left, his right, he reached down and ran his right hand the length of her leg from the knee to the ankle, across the instep and down over her toes.
He reached across with his left hand and drew the small table closer.
Pausing, he never shifted his gaze.
Then he reached into the apron pocket and withdrew the hacksaw.
*
Paula started to scream.