Twelve Forty-two North Seventy-five Seventy-three East by Alvin Joseph K. - HTML preview

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CHAPTER 15

A NAME AND A FACE

 

ALL Joe could see was pitch black. The shroud that his captivators put on his face after dragging him out of his car at gunpoint, was serving its intended purpose very well. His feet touched the ground firmly, although his hands were above his head hanging from a thick rope. He couldn’t tell exactly how long had it been since a group of vehicles surrounded his car and forced him out of the highway into a pocket road where they moved him into one of their vehicles, but he knew it had been hours.

Joe’s hands and knees were starting to hurt. Stomach growling. He had neither eaten nor drunk anything since yesterday’s light dinner which he shared with Lisa. He couldn’t help but wonder if it would be his last supper but hoped it wouldn’t be. He had ceased all efforts to break loose long ago understanding it was not going to happen. He was no Rambo.

Joe had no doubt whatsoever about his kidnappers. Obviously, they were muscle for money to the anonymous voice who introduced himself as the man behind Lisa’s parents’ murder. May be a mastermind but cocky. May he would show up. May be it’s a she. Who knows?

The shrill sound of a metal door opening caught his attention. It was followed by the sound of footsteps, one of which walked hurriedly towards him. It stopped beside him. He was stripped of the shroud. Joe found himself in a large room, dimly lit by the sunlight, coming through a small overhead window on his left side. A stout, six foot tall man was standing in front of him. It took him a few seconds to spot that it was same man who shoved him into the back of the SUV. He rotated his head anticlockwise for a good view of the room. But before Joe could get a good view, he was served with a tight slap across his face. It hurt. Joe had never been slapped before.

“Don’t start already”, a voice spoke out from the dark, “You will have your chance”.

The voice felt familiar, a heavy manly voice. He didn’t have to do much brainstorming to identify the person. That voice which no one easily forgets, belonged to anonymous man over the phone. A dark silhouette walked out from the shadows. As he walked towards Joe, the sunlight revealed, first his white boots, then his white pants and black shirt. When his face came into view, Joe wondered if he chose his attire to match his face. His long face was covered by a thick white beard over which his right hand was hovering. The white beard meet with his still black hair above the ears. His black eyes positioned themselves at Joe. The anonymous voice now had a face.

The overhead rope to which hands were tied to, suddenly loosened. The thug who stood beside Joe kicked him at the back of his knees forcing Joe to fall on his knees and the grip tightened once again. Another thug placed a wooden chair about a feet from him.

“Sorry I kept you waiting for so long.”, Said the man as he sat down on the chair laid for him. “Your visit, I should say was rather unexpected. The news of your arrival rather took me by surprise.” Though his words were polite like that of a great host to his guest, the mockery in his voice and the ridiculing look on his face was hard to miss.

He paused for some time, probably expecting Joe to say something. “My boys here tell me that you have been a good boy. Aren’t you going to ask me what I want?”

“What for? I already know what you want. You want to survive.”

“So you haven’t gone dump and you know what I want. That’s good. That’s very good.” He leaned towards Joe. Looking right into his eyes, he asked “Then why don’t we skip the pleasantries and move to the part where you tell me where to find your girlfriend?”

“That is funny, you know. We both want the answer to the same question.” Joe answered with a smile on his face.

That enraged the Interrogator. Reeling back he landed a punch right on Joe’s face, leaving him with a bleeding nose. “You want to play games with me now?” he paused and took a breath. With a much calmer demeanour, he continued, “See kid, let’s make this easy for both of us. There is no need for a brawl between us. Give me Lisa’s location so that I can get the disk from her and your love story can have it’s happily ever after. Else, I would have no choice but to write a tragic end to your love story. So what is it going to be?” Like how a mother reading a fairy-tale to her child would end it, he said “And they lived happily ever after”. After a pause he added, “Or”. He left the elongated ‘or’ looming in the air.

“Mister, whatever your name is, believe me I don’t know. She left a note saying she will take care of everything herself. I’m trying to locate her myself.” He wasn’t lying but he wasn’t exactly telling the truth either. It was somewhere in between. A cocktail of truth and lies. Like Lisa once said, he was not good at lying, he had to be careful. That is why he mixed the lies with truth.

“You expect me to believe that? You should have come up with something more convincing than that if you were trying to fool me.”

“No, I’m telling the truth. You have to believe me on this.” Joe tried desperately to persuade his interrogator. He was going to get beat up real bad if he couldn’t convince him that he didn’t know anything and he was not going to give up her location to avoid that.

“Yeah, right.” The interrogator got off his chair saying “Bad move kid. I’m done reasoning with you.” He almost turned his back towards Joe when he paused all of a sudden, turned back said “And you can call me, Mr. K. Like my boys here does.”

Minutes ago Joe only knew the guy who had killed Lisa’s parents as a voice on his phone. But now he had a name and a face. He was standing right in front of him and he called himself Mr. K!

“Shouldn’t it be Mr. X?” Joe asked.

“Why not avoid the cliché?”

Mr. K eyed a thug who nodded in agreement. Joe knew what that meant. The moments to follow were going to be painful.