CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Revenge
Before Persephone could rest, she had another matter to deal with. She had put her vicious rape by Jim Clayton to the back of her mind while she dealt with Craig Sellars, but it was now right back at the forefront. She was as furious as the day when she had first realised what he had done and even though the bruises and scratches had faded, there was an indelible scar on her psyche.
She had temporarily forgotten her role dispensing justice on behalf of people wronged by rapacious companies. Now she felt only an overpowering rage. She wanted to mete out the worst possible punishment to the callous man who had drugged and violated her. She considered all her options, but kept returning to the only thing that would give her what she wanted. He was going to die, and she was going to watch him as he realised just what a bad mistake he had made the day he decided to rape Persephone Stone.
First, however, she needed a plan at least as good as the one she had used for Craig. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life in jail. After a bit of digging, she found out that Jim lived in Surrey with his wife, three young boys and a large labrador. This gave her pause, but she reckoned the kids were better of without him – if their father didn’t get taken care of soon, he would probably just train them to rape women as well. He worked in the city and commuted daily by train. His job as a senior underwriter with a large insurance company was well paid, but according to his Facebook page, he appeared to be frustrated by the lack of opportunities to advance, as the next step in his career was into senior management and these jobs didn’t come up very often, especially since the global financial crisis, when everyone was hanging onto their jobs for grim life. She felt the beginnings of a plan coming on.
She needed to create a new identity but it only needed to withstand Jim’s scrutiny and only for a very short time so she decided that didn’t need Isaac’s help with this one. She now had plenty of money that she could use to set this up.
She flew to London and found herself a nice apartment in Hampstead, which was central enough to the city with easy access to the London Underground to get her back and forward without difficulty to the office she would also lease. She set up some false accounts in the Cayman Islands in the name of the fictitious company she was going to use to reel Jim in and paid the rent on the apartment up front for three months. Giving the name of Alison Dearlove, she told the real estate agent that she was moving to London from Europe and needed somewhere to live while she looked for a more permanent home. This made sure there was no obvious link between the office and this flat apart from the place where the payment had come from. She organised for the keys to be sent to a post office box that she set up in the city, dissuading the real estate agent from a face to face meeting by telling her the flight was arriving at 3am and she wanted to just go home and sleep.
The office was pretty much as simple as the flat, but as it was going to be discovered straight away, she decided to save herself some money and only paid the first month’s rent. After all, she was going to have some significant expenses setting it up to look just right for her plan. The office she found was in the centre of London and had recently been vacated by a small trading company, which had just gone bust. The building owner was happy to take a small deposit so that the place was occupied and offered the services of the building concierge to help Ms Brown the local VP of this vast international search company organise any refurbishment.
She gave herself a silent pat on the back for having been a good student in Isaac’s money-laundering course as she managed to do this without a hitch all on her own. Given what she was using the office for, there was going to be plenty of attention at that location, so the only critical thing was to make sure that none of the payments to the office or apartment rental agents were traceable and any attempt by law enforcement agencies to track her down would lead to a dead end.
The final piece was to build an identity for the company Glocal Executive Search, which she reckoned sounded pretentious enough for the job. As these types of companies were typically fairly discreet in their operations, the only thing that Persephone had to do was set up a credible web site that would look suitably high class. She did the simplest thing and copied the basic site layout of one of the majors, put in her own logo, put a blurry photo of herself amongst several other ‘executive VPs’, made up a number of glowing client references and left a spot for people to submit resumes if they were interested in being a candidate. It wouldn’t have withstood serious scrutiny, but was only going to be needed to convince Jim.
After only two weeks of frenzied activity she was ready to go
Persephone booked herself as Dr Jane O’Mara on a flight to London with JAL via Tokyo. She had a 10-hour layover and used the time to go into the city’s markets and make a cash acquisition. Boarding the second leg, she had some minor difficulty with her cabin baggage, but once she agreed to check her new item, everyone calmed down and Jane settled back in her first class seat to enjoy the sake she had developed quite a taste for.
When she disembarked into the cold wet London day, Persephone felt like an alien. It was hard to believe that she had grown up in this grey, miserable country and she immediately started counting the hours until she could return to her sun-drenched, colourful home in Australia. She really didn’t belong here any more, despite the sacrifices she had made for Britain in her younger days, and it made her sad. She caught herself before she got maudlin, and took the train to Paddington, rolling her smart hard shell luggage containing her new purchase onto the train and into the cab at the other end.
She got out of the cab, stretched and tried the door keys that the agent had posted to her post office box. They worked, so she paid the cabbie and went inside. She found the bedroom and decided to have a quick rest before she got on with preparing the rest of the items for her plan. Several hours later, she woke up in the pitch-black darkness that speaks well of good heavy blackout curtains. She checked her watch, which showed about half past three. Wandering out into the kitchen, and noting the dark skies and lack of neighbourhood movement, she ascertained it was 3:30am. Persephone made herself a cup of tea – when in Rome – and decided to try to go back to sleep – maybe this would reset her body clock and help with the jet lag.
After a couple of hours tossing and turning, she gave up. She got up, unpacked her suitcase, showered and changed. Might as well get on with the final preparations. It was too early to go to the office, but she could run through her prepared scripts for the call to Jim and re-read the emails she had prepared to follow-up if she needed them. She logged onto her laptop and checked that the corporate-looking web site she had set up was operating properly and was convincing enough to suck him in. Actually it was so convincing that it appeared to have attracted a number of enquiries from other people trolling the Internet for jobs.
“Okay Jimmy boy, here I come.” She said out loud to the empty flat.
At 8am, kitted out in her short black wig, heavy black-framed spectacles (which were right on trend so they didn’t reek of disguise) and grey Hugo Boss suit, she took the tube to Leicester Square and met the building manager for the office she had rented. He took her up in the lift to the 6th floor, where she was confronted by a substantial oak door with a large brass plaque bearing the name of the now defunct trading company.
“Sorry Ms Brown, I thought we had already replaced that.” Stuttered the embarrassed building manager, “I will get straight onto the sign people and make sure it’s fixed today. Just checking, you want Glocal Executive Search PLC on the new plaque?”
“Thank you Tim, that would be great. Can we go in now, I would like to check out the fit out and see what needs doing.”
The office inside consisted of a small reception area with an ugly grey Formica desk and two violent orange visitor seats that ensured anyone sitting in them who was over 4 foot tall would have their knees around their shoulders.
“Have the Glocal signs arrived?” sh
e asked Tim, “maybe the men who fix the door plaque can erect them here and in the main office area?”
“They certainly have Ms Brown, I will get them sent up and you can tell the men where to put them.”
They both went through the door at the back of the reception area to find themselves in an enormous brown-carpeted open plan office with 4 cheap looking cubicles and a boardroom that looked liked it had been furnished at IKEA set off to the left hand side. This was going to need some work. Once Tim had left to go and chase up the sign-hanging people, Persephone got on the phone to an office fit out company she had spoken to the previous week from Australia.
“You had better get over here this morning. I am going to need a complete remodel.”
Gervais, the office designer turned up within the hour. Dressed in what appeared to be a costume from a Victorian country house play, complete with tweed waistcoat, monocle and fob watch, he was the complete dandy. Persephone told him the concept she was looking for and asked him to use his creative talents to come up with something great. She only had a couple of specific requirements and Gervais was happy to accommodate them in his grand design.
Spinning around and throwing out him arms with joy, he declared that it would all have to go and that he had “just the items in the warehouse that would send Modom into frenzies of delight!” Persephone made him promise to send at least a concept picture to her before he started shipping, but she was not confident that anything of the sort would turn up. She resigned herself to just accepting that Gervais’ inspiration would provide her with a suitably opulent office. As long as the specific item she wanted were delivered, the rest was really just for show, and only had to temporarily impress and distract one person.
As she had done all should could for one day at the office, she locked up and went back to the flat in Hampstead. She was sorely tempted to phone some of her family who still lived in England, but she realised that keeping this trip secret was imperative, and now she was independently wealthy, she could afford to travel a lot more and catch up with them at a better time. Switching on the television, she made herself another cup of tea and sat down for at least five minutes of daytime soaps before she nodded off again. Clearly she wasn’t quite over the jet lag yet.
Later that afternoon she went for a gentle walk on Hampstead Heath, found a pizza restaurant that served quite a decent dinner and went back alone to bed. She was not going to get herself into any more trouble by socialising in pubs or wine bars – after all, it was that sort of stupidity that had led her here in the first place. Despite the light relief of dealing with Gervais the office designer, she was still filled with anger and pain and was now getting impatient to deliver the coup de grace as soon as she could.
The following morning dawned clear and cold. Gervais had promised her that he was arriving at 10am with all the furniture and fittings for her new “fabulous space”, having of course completely omitted to send her the concept pictures. Persephone packed a briefcase and put her Tokyo acquisition in the front pocket. It was unlikely that she would need it that day, but it pays to be prepared, and she could leave it at the office anyway. Donning the wig, she set off to start the plan rolling.
Gervais proved to be a master at his craft. Once his team had left and all the air-kissing had finished, Persephone sat back in her chair behind the massive oak desk and surveyed the transformed office. Gone were the tacky cubicles to be replaced by two enormous leather chesterfield sofas facing each other across a low coffee table sitting on a beautiful Persian rug that did a great job of hiding the worst of the nasty brown carpet. The Boardroom had disappeared behind a plasterboard wall partition in front of which was Persephone’s desk. The visitor’s chair on the other side of her desk was an Edwardian reproduction high backed chair with ornate legs and arms and a red leather stuffed seat. Artworks covered the walls depicting scenes of the English countryside and rustic city scenes. The overall effect was one of solidity and history but with a real style. They had removed the hideous reception desk and left two small leather seats with the table in between. Gervais had even brought along a selection of magazines with topics ranging from art and design to finance and banking. It was perfect.
Now the scenery was in place, Persephone could kick off the action. She started with a call to Jim at work. His secretary answered, and Persephone, speaking with her best English upper-class accent, left a message for him to call Louise Brown on a ‘personal’ matter. She was banking on him being intrigued enough to return the call as he would either assume she was a head-hunter, or that it was always worth the risk to call a woman back, as who knows where it may lead? She made sure that the answering service at the office made it clear that this was Glocal Executive Search and waited for the call.
After an hour or so, Persephone realised her hands were hurting. She looked down at them and discovered that she had dug her nails into her palms almost hard enough to draw blood. She rubbed at the angry red marks as she tried to calm herself. Teeth clenched, she muttered to herself, “I will NOT let the bastard get away with this.” Over and over.
She realised that this was getting her nowhere, so she got up and locked up the office and went shopping. Unfortunately, in the state of mind she was, even retail therapy wasn’t working. Every piece of clothing she tried on was too big, too small, the wrong colour or just wrong. She changed tack. How about buying presents for Isaac and Reg? As she was just about to hand over her credit card, she suddenly remembered – this was supposed to be a covert trip. How on earth was she going to explain a Gieves and Hawkes trilby to Reg? She shook herself; clearly she was losing the plot. The only thing to do now was to find a bar and distract herself with cocktails.
After a few martinis in an-upmarket cocktail bar just off Piccadilly Circus, Persephone started to check out the talent. Sitting at the next table was an attractive 40-something man dressed in a polo shirt and slacks, looking like he had just stepped off the golf course. Athletic and browned, he looked to be right up Persephone’s alley. He caught her ogling him and tipped his head to one side, smiling and gesturing that Persephone might like to join him. Forgetting her mission, Persephone was there like a shot.
“Hi, my name is Mark, and who is this vision of loveliness that has agreed to join me in a small libation?”
This line of absolute crap jolted Persephone out of her inebriated musings. She looked again at Mark, and all she saw was a creepy middle-aged gigolo with a good eye for expensively dressed middle-aged women. Embarrassed, she stood up, thanked him (apparently she was still English enough to thank everyone for whatever they had done or said, no matter how inappropriate) and left the bar. Now angry with herself as well as Jim she resolved to just go back to the flat and wait to see what transpired the following day.
That night Persephone was wracked with nightmares about being beaten, raped and killed by a variety of men, all of whom kept taunting her that she was stupid, and ugly and deserved what she was getting. She woke up early covered in sweat with the sheets tangled around her body from all the tossing and turning. Even though it was not yet light, she got up and made another cup of tea.
“I really must get back home soon” she mused to herself, “I’m turning back into a Pom.”
She showered, dressed in her smart business suit and wig and headed off to find a café that served early breakfast. After a hearty meal of bacon, eggs, beans and chips, she got on the tube and went to the office. There, waiting for her on the answering service, was a message from Jim.
“Hello, this is Jim Clayton. You left a message for me to call you earlier today. I’m not sure what this is about, but if you would care to call me back, you can reach me on my mobile phone.” He left a number.
Persephone let out a huge sigh of relief. She had not realised how wound up she had been – the plan was pretty sound, but ultimately had relied on Jim taking the bait. Now she had to get busy. She called him back.
“He
llo Jim,” she said once he answered, “this is Louise Brown from Glocal Executive Search. Can you talk right now, or is there a time we can have a confidential chat? I am happy to ring back, or you can call me on the number you already have.”
Jim told her that he was at his desk, but would call her back at lunchtime. She agreed and waited for the next call. At 1:30, the phone rang.
“Glocal Executive Search, Louise Brown speaking.”
“Hello Louise, this is Jim Clayton again.”
“Jim! So glad you called. As you have probably guessed, we are acting for a client who is looking for someone with a background in underwriting for an exciting role and your name came up in our research. Are you interested in a confidential discussion about a role outside your current organisation?” Persephone was careful to take this gently and bring him along willingly.
Jim explained that whilst he was happy and fulfilled in his current role, that for the right job, he would indeed be interested in a possible move. Persephone explained that this was a highly autonomous role, reporting to a Board at a company that was setting up a business providing underwriting consulting services to a range of new micro insurance origination business that were currently springing up across South East Asia. This was to be an ex-pat arrangement with all the benefits that this brought with it, and she mentioned that she had impressed certain people when he had attended the recent conference in Japan with his ability to sensitively deal with the cross-cultural issues that often caused trouble in this type of business. She had no idea what he had done at the conference, but reckoned that he would be flattered enough to ignore the details of the compliments being offered.
Jim became more and more interested – this looked exactly like the type of job that he wanted. It could be his opportunity to step up to the next level in his career and the ex-pat arrangements meant he could even keep his wife happy with the prospect of travel to exotic places and in-house nannies for the children.
“That sounds very interesting, Louise, how do I find out more about this?” Jim tried unsuccessfully to keep the excitement out of his voice.
“Our client is keen to fill this role as soon as he finds the right person, so time is of the essence here, Jim. We need to meet face to face to discuss this opportunity, and sooner is better than later.” Persephone paused, waiting for Jim to leap in.
“Look, I’m happy to catch up later today if that works for you.” an eager Jim replied, “where are your offices? I can be there this afternoon – I have a few meetings, but depending on what hours you keep, we could do 5:30 today?”
Persephone smiled. Clenching her teeth at the effort it was taking to be light and friendly, she arranged for him to come to the office at 6pm. She hinted that if they had a productive chat that drinks and maybe even dinner wouldn’t be out of the question. This would give him the opportunity to let his wife know that he might be very late so that the alarm would not be raised until she had plenty of time to get out of the country. The next thing she did was to phone the airline and book herself on the late night flight back to Australia that evening.
She went back to the flat, packed her suitcase and thoroughly cleaned the flat, taking care to wipe clean every surface she touched. She packed the cleaning items into her suitcase and took it back to the office to prepare for Jim’s arrival.
At 6pm on the dot, there was a knock on the door.
“Coming,” she called, “won’t be a sec.”
She took a few deep breaths. Her heart was beating so fast that she thought anyone within six feet could hear it. She had to calm down and give herself enough time to carry out her carefully prepared plan. Focusing on containing the anger that burned white hot inside her chest, she started to become more composed and her hands relaxed.
The next moment was going to prove crucial. Would Jim recognise the woman he had drugged and raped in Tokyo behind the severe wig and sharp suit of Louise Brown, executive search consultant? Taking another deep breath, Persephone opened the door, held out her hand to shake Jim’s, and welcomed him into her office. The work that Gervais had charged her several thousands of pounds for paid for itself in that moment. Jim was taken aback at the opulence and overdone office décor and forgot to even look at Louise. He allowed himself to be guided, slack-jawed to the high backed chair opposite her sumptuous desk.
“Tea?” Louise asked.
Jim agreed, still surveying the completely overdone office artwork and furnishings. Persephone got up and went over to the table between the lounges where she had already made a pot of tea on a silver tray with two fine china Royal Doulton cups.
“Milk, sugar?” she queried
“Both please, one sugar” was the reply.
“I would serve it here on the lounge, but I think it’s best we get the formal part of this meeting over and done with before we relax. Just sit there and I will bring it over.”
Persephone was careful to put the milk and sugar into the cup she had previously spiked with her remaining supply of tetrodotoxin. She had hers black so that there was no chance of a mix up when she went back to the desk. This was going to take a bit longer than when she had injected Craig, and she needed Jim to drink it all before she could be certain that its effects would commence. She smiled as she handed over the cup and saucer.
“Drink up, and let’s have a chat about your future.”
Jim thought the lukewarm tea was really bad with a strange metallic taste, but not wanting to offend the person who was going to help him get his next big job, he smiled manfully and sipped it gently.
“So Jim, why don’t I start by telling you a bit more about this job?” Persephone wanted Jim to keep drinking and if she had asked him to talk about himself first, then he wouldn’t drink the tea that she had so carefully prepared. She started by taking a sip of tea while looking pointedly at Jim and smiling in an what she hoped was an encouraging manner. Jim took the hint and made another effort to finish off the revolting brew in his cup. Encouraged, Persephone reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a manila folder. She opened it up and started to talk all about this incredible new concept that her client, a mega-wealthy Asian businessman had come up with and how its success was going to be due in large part to the new CEO, the role about which she was talking to Jim. She droned on about the sort of qualities they were looking for and how she had been told that Jim could be a perfect fit. After about 10 minutes of her monologue and watching him start to succumb to the effects of the drugged tea, she became bolder.
As Jim started to smack his lips together and rub his fingers on the arms of the chair, she started to let him know that this was no ordinary job interview.
“Jim, before I go any further with this information, could you let me know how you think your recent trip to Japan went?”
Jim, who was getting increasingly sweaty and uncomfortable, was shocked at the sudden change of tack.
“Sorry, what do you mean? I was jusht at a conference, met a bunch of people, saw the sights….” His speech was getting slurred and confused.
“What I really meant, was how did you enjoy dinner at the Imperial Hotel? Was dessert nice?” Persephone smiled gently. She was now enjoying Jim’s obvious confusion and discomfort and could barely contain herself and stick to her planned timings while the poison made its inexorable way through Jim’s nervous system.
Jim started to realise that something was really wrong. He stared hard at Louise, and was surprised to see that she no longer had short black hair, and was now a blonde. She looked just like someone he knew, and why was he suddenly feeling so ill? His fingers and toes and his entire face was numb and he was sweating like a pig. He was sure he was about to vomit, but he couldn’t seem to get up the energy.
Persephone watched the truth dawn on Jim as the horror took hold. She was delighted. This was everything she had wanted from this scene.
“Hello Jim, remember me?” She smiled sweetly, but it looked to Jim like an evil
grin as she got up and came around the desk, laying one cool hand on his sweaty burning cheek.
“I’ve never been one to let a bad deed go unpunished, and being a bit competitive, I always like to up the ante. You gave me rohypnol before you raped and beat me, but I reckon that’s just child’s play. You played the date rape drug and I raise you a lethal poison”
As she spoke softly to him, she bent down and fastened his wrists and ankles with plastic cable ties to the arms of the mock Edwardian chair she had specially ordered.
Jim tried to move as she was trussing him, but his arms and legs felt like they were stuck in tar. He was finding it difficult to breathe and his eyes were bulging out of their sockets as the terror increased and he fought for breath.
Persephone continued in a calm even tone, “The trouble is that I don’t want to rape you back, even if I could, so this is my retribution. I understand that Tetrodotoxin takes a few more minutes before it kills you, Jim, but now that you are completely unable to resist, it occurred to me that a much more fitting way for you to die would involve some sort of penetration - just for balance, you realise.” She laughed loudly at her own joke.
Now, to Jim’s ever increasing terror, Persephone produced the knife she had purchased in Tokyo on the way over and had stored in the desk under the manila folder.
“This is just a holiday memento,” she said coolly as she inserted the tip of the 4 inch blade through his ribs and up towards his heart. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “I hope you got some pleasure out of raping me while I was incapable of resisting. But I bet it was nothing like how good this feels for me.”
She pushed gently, feeling the slight resistance as the knife pierced his chest wall, then she kept going until the ornate hilt was pressed up against his starched white shirt. Just like they had trained her, years ago in Hereford.
Persephone watched as Jim’s expression faded with the poison taking full control of his facial muscles and then his heart stopped. There was remarkably little blood coming out of the wound in his chest, and the high back of the chair was holding his head at a slight angle. If you didn’t know he was dead, it wasn’t obvious on first glance. She stood back, admiring her handiwork, pleased that she hadn’t even made a mess of Gervais’ interior decorating efforts.
“And that’s what happens when you fuck with me” she told Jim’s dead body, “you fucking bastard rapist prick!” She was surprised to find tears running down her face. This wouldn’t do at all. She was now a double murderer and both of her victims heartily deserved their fate, but why was she crying?
She didn’t have the time to deal with this right now as she had a crime scene to clear up and a plane to catch. Drying her eyes and banishing all emotion, she quickly retrieved the cleaning items from her bag and put her wig on again. She used the small vacuum cleaner to pick up any stray hairs that might have fallen out when she had removed the wig – it had been a vanity, but worth it just to see the look on his face as he realised who she was. Emptying the dust into a ziploc bag she put both into a shopping bag to be disposed of on the way to the airport. She then put on rubber gloves and thoroughly cleaned the rest of the office, making sure that she left no trace of herself, both in the office and the reception area. Wiping the outside door handle clean, she wheeled her suitcase to the lift. It was now 8pm, and the concierge was finished for the day, so the only things she had to worry about were the security cameras in the lobby. She had taken care not to show her face on every occasion she had been through the lobby and in any case, the heavy makeup and wig were doing a great job of disguising her true looks.
Having dumped the vacuum cleaner in a rubbish bin a couple of blocks away at the back of a restaurant, she caught a cab to Paddington station to avoid the CCTV on the London Underground. At the station she went into the Ladies toilet where she removed the wig, cleaned off the heavy makeup, changed into casual slacks and blouse, dropped the plastic bag from the dust-buster into the waste paper bin and took the train to Heathrow. Within an hour, Dr Jane O’Mara boarded the plane, welcomed back by the very flight attendant who had saved her from Sleazy Bastard on the trip to Tokyo.
“Would Dr O’Mara like another cup of our premier Yonetsuru sake?”
Persephone reflected on the day. Up until she had plunged the knife into Jim’s chest, she had been able to justify her actions by convincing herself that this was all for the greater good. That wasn’t true for Jim’s death, as she knew deep down at the core of her being that this had been purely about revenge. What did this make her – had she crossed the line into becoming evil herself or could she still keep up the façade of being its avenger? How was she going to face Isaac and Reg? She decided that this was all too hard to deal with at that point, as she was still hyped up from the killing and clean-up, so she silenced her demons by drinking sake all the way to Tokyo, boarded the final leg to Sydney and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.