Blind Angel of Wrath (The Blind Sleuth Mysteries 2)

3 Here and now

When I regain consciousness, I feel completely lost at first. I remember hearing a train rushing towards me; the sudden panic; the fear of being mangled by an onrushing machine, but it's a very fleeting memory, although it seems to have happened only an instant ago... or not at all.

Then I'm overcome by that strange feeling you sometimes have when you're waking up in the morning, still half inside a dream you no longer recall, just dreaming that you are going to wake up at any moment now... But I can't remember going to sleep. Not one bit. "I definitely did not go to bed... yet," I tell myself.

Then there is a sense of disorientation. I have absolutely no idea where I am, even though I'm pretty sure by now that I'm wide awake. I move my head a little; I feel dizzy, but I'm back... Of course, at this stage, normal people would open their eyes to find out what is going on. "I'm simply in my bed, but I was completely drunk last night..." or "now I remember, we're in a hotel room, it must be the jet lag..." or "I'm lying on the bathroom floor, I must have fainted after a too hot bath!" Sometimes it takes a few moments, but eventually you figure out where you are and what happened to you.

Having reached the conclusion that I must have passed out, I, on the other hand, have no way of checking my whereabouts. The first thing that strikes me is that I'm wearing all my clothes, including my shoes. Then, when I try to move, I can't. A flash of panic: "Am I paralysed? But I can feel my clothes, my shoes..." I try to move my fingers and my toes. Everything seems to be working all right, and I realise that my body is restrained somehow.

Finally it dawns on me that I'm not lying down, but hanging by my wrists against a wall. I try—and manage—to get onto my feet; to stand up and regain my balance. I'm still feeling a bit dizzy.

Standing there, apparently strapped to a wall, I suddenly remember what has happened. My last memory before passing out is of walking in the street and being attacked from behind and knocked out with chloroform. "Oh! The irony of it," I reflect, "the tragic irony!" Attacked and captured by the man I've been hunting...

Now I focus my attention on my surroundings. I prick up my ears, sniff the air, and come to the conclusion that there's someone else here, not far from me. A man. "Who are you? Where am I?" I demand.

"Whoa, girl! Don't you take that tone with me! You're in no position to order me about..."

A harsh, impatient voice, with an edge of aggression in it that is hard to miss. A bit raspy, with the whiff of tobacco of a heavy smoker. The accent not very refined, to say the least. Definitely not a gentleman.

"Ah... erm... no, listen... Are you the pervert who abducted Loretta?"

By way of an answer I feel a blow hit my face, apparently the man's fist. I'm stunned more than hurt, and think, "That probably means yes."

"Is Loretta still alive?" I ask.

Another blow. "You ask too many questions, girl. You'll find out in due time. For now let's take care of what I want from you..."

"Why do you call me girl? I'm forty-four years old, you know."

"Yeah, and I find you pretty sexy... girl! Your eyes are a bit off-putting, but your body looks hot."

"Beggars can't be choosers, eh?"

I'm feeling really angry; angry at myself and at this coward who is hitting me. But then I feel his hands groping my breasts through my clothes. "So that's what all this is about," I tell myself. I don't say a word. After the first reflex movement of trying to turn my chest away, I realise that I am at the man's mercy, shackled to a wall, my arms raised, my bosom unprotected... So I stop moving and brace myself for what is to come next.