Obsession (76 page)

‘And do you know what he did, Corrie?’ Annalise said. ‘Do you know what Luke did?’

Corrie shook her head.

‘He raped me.’

‘Oh my God,’ Corrie breathed, wishing that her imagination could tear itself free of the images Annalise’s words were creating.

‘I didn’t call him daddy,’ Annalise spat, ‘but she did! She said it for me! She put on a little girl’s voice and shouted “Stop! Daddy, Daddy, stop!” And then she started calling me Siobhan. She called him Phillip … She said “Come on Phillip, fuck your daughter, Siobhan. She wants your …”’ Annalise’s tongue recoiled from the obscenities … ‘She went on and on and on. She drove him to such a frenzy I don’t think he knew who he was, who I was or even who she was. He was laughing and crying and screaming … And all the time he was raping me while she held me down.’

‘Oh, Annalise,’ Corrie murmured.

‘When it was over,’ Annalise said, ‘after she had pulled him out of me so he could finish with her, she told me that Siobhan was his sister. That, so he says, I look exactly like her. That all this time he’s been with me in his head he’s been screwing his sister
and
his daughter. But not only that, his father’s name is Phillip, the same as …’ Her eyes fell, and Corrie saw the way her mouth trembled.

‘Your father’s,’ Corrie said for her.

Annalise attempted a smile and her eyes were filled with an uncertain gratitude as she looked back at Corrie. ‘She was enjoying it, Corrie,’ she went on. ‘She was loving every minute of it. She must hate me so much to do that to me … But she hates everyone, I could see it in her eyes.
And
I could see what she was doing. She was deliberately tormenting Luke. She was making him hold me as though I was a baby, and fondle me. And he tried to do it. He tried to make me stop crying by kissing me, by putting his hands all over me …’ She shuddered violently. ‘I got away from them – I ran away, but he caught me. When he dragged me back inside she was sitting there, curled in a chair and looking so superior, so pleased with herself. “You know what brought all this on, don’t you?” she said to me. “It’s because
you
told him that Corrie Browne was going to Los Angeles, and he’s threatening to go back to London to stop her. He wants Corrie Browne,” she said. Then to Luke she said, “But you can’t have Corrie Browne can you, mother-fucker? She won’t want you now, no one wants you now – except me.” Luke started to beg me then to get him away from her. He started pawing me, pleading with me not to leave him … But I couldn’t stand him near me. I never wanted him to touch me again … I could still hear her laughing when I ran into my bedroom and locked myself in. And I heard them all night long … I don’t know what he was doing to her, or she to him, but she kept asking for more … And all I could think of was that I wanted to kill her … And if I had had the means to do it I know I would have. I hate her, I despise her … My own mother … And my father … But I can’t think of him as my father, I’ll never be able to think of him as that.’

And neither, Corrie thought now, as she lay in the darkness listening to Annalise’s delirious mumblings, would she.

Despite the heat emanating from Annalise’s body, Corrie could feel her shivering. Luke had forced her to remain in the sun for so long that day that her delicate skin was now ravaged with blisters and her mind was tortured by the feverish confusion of heatstroke. Again the sheer helplessness of their situation welled up in Corrie, but as the tears trickled from her eyes her own exhaustion settled a
smothering
blanket over the fear that her conscious mind was losing the struggle to suppress.

Cristos was standing at the vast arched window in his suite at the Majestic watching the first crimson rays of daylight burn the horizon. He had slept fitfully for an hour or two, but now he was wide awake and once again trying to snare the elusive thoughts which had been plaguing him ever since he had left Horowitz the day before. Something the man had said, or was it something Phillip had said, was bothering Cristos, but no matter how many times he reran in his mind what they’d told him he couldn’t figure out what it was. He was missing something, he was damned sure of it, something vital, but Jesus Christ what was it?

He looked round as the door to the second bedroom of the suite opened and his mother, fastening the belt of her dressing-gown, came into the room.

‘Ah,
chéri
,’ she sighed, when she saw him. ‘No sleep again?’

‘Not much, no,’ he confessed, slipping an arm around her as she joined him at the window.

‘Shall I ring down for some breakfast?’ she said, as they both gazed out across the fiery sea.

Cristos shook his head.

‘But you must eat,’ she told him gently. ‘All this worry and no sleep …’

‘I can’t think about food …’

‘All you can think about is Corrie. I know,
chéri
.’

‘Damn it!’ Cristos cried, slamming his fist into the wall. ‘All I can think about is what that madman might do to her.’

Breaking away from him Mariette went to sit on one of the powdery-pink sofas. ‘Come here,’ she said, patting the cushion beside her.

Cristos glanced back over his shoulder, but made no attempt to move from where he was standing.

Because he was her son and because she loved him so very much Mariette could feel his pain as though it were her own. ‘It’ll be all right,’ she said softly, trying in vain to comfort him. ‘You’ll get her back,
chéri
.’

‘Mother, don’t patronize me,’ Cristos snapped. ‘You know what she’s up against. I told you what the doctor said.’

‘But he doesn’t know for certain,’ Mariette reminded him. ‘He was only guessing.’

‘And what if he’s right? What if Fitzpatrick in his sick mind …’

‘What if? What if?’ Mariette interrupted. ‘You must stop torturing yourself like this, Cristos. You can’t be any help to her if you don’t. Now come, sit here and let’s go over it again. Let’s see if we can’t find out what it is that’s bothering you about what the doctor told you.’

‘We’ve been over it and over it, Mother,’ Cristos said tightly. ‘It’s something to do with that woman, Geraldine Lassiter, but Christ knows what.’

‘Didn’t you say that Phillip was trying to find out where she is now?’

Cristos nodded.

‘Then why don’t you try to put it out of your mind until …’

‘Mother!’ Cristos seethed.

‘Well what purpose is this serving, getting yourself worked into a frenzy … You have other commitments here, Cristos. Bud Winters wants you to put in an appearance at the
Palais
tonight …’

‘If he thinks … ’

‘What he thinks is that a lot of people have worked very hard for you to get this film ready. He thinks you owe it to them to be there for the awards ceremony.’

‘Do you seriously think I give a damn what Bud Winters or anyone else thinks when Corrie’s out there somewhere …’

‘Perhaps if you went to the ceremony,’ Mariette interrupted smoothly, ‘and relaxed a little, you might find that whatever it is you’re trying to remember will come to you.’

‘Leave it, Mother!’ he barked. ‘Just leave it,’ and before she could say anymore he walked out of the room to go and cool his temper and frustration in the shower.

‘Goddammit,’ he seethed as the powerful jets of water washed away his tears. The answer was there, it was staring him right in the face, he just knew it, but for the love of Christ he just couldn’t reach it.

Tiny slats of sunlight were seeping through the shuttered windows striping the room in which Corrie and Annalise lay. From the chimes of the faraway clock Corrie knew that midday had come and gone some time ago now. She had no idea where Luke was, or what he was doing. He’d come into the room during the early hours, staying only a few seconds, and she’d heard nothing since except Annalise’s mumblings and her own sobs as she prayed to God to save them from the terrifying insanity that was imprisoning them.

Annalise was sleeping quietly now and Corrie’s entire body ached with cramp. Her mouth was so tender and swollen that just the slightest movement of her lips caused her unbearable pain. Her cheeks were encrusted with tears, her hair matted with blood and perspiration.

There was nothing she could do now to stop herself thinking of Cristos. In her mind she was reliving their moments of tenderness, listening to the gentle lilt in his voice as he told her he loved her. Her heart churned as she recalled the depth of his passion, as she almost felt the sheer strength of him, but with each thought came a wave of excruciating fear that she might never see him again.

As fresh tears started in her eyes she felt a gentle tug at her wrists.

‘Corrie? Are you awake?’ Annalise whispered.

‘Yes,’ Corrie answered and felt her throat swell with relief that she was no longer alone. ‘How are you feeling?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know. I hurt – all over.’ Annalise’s voice was parched. ‘Where did those rabbits come from?’ she asked.

‘Luke brought them in during the night.’

‘Why?’

‘I don’t know.’

They both froze as a sudden crash resounded through the house.

‘What was that?’ Annalise breathed.

Corrie didn’t answer.

The noise came again and again, echoing around the polished walls of the villa. Something heavy was being dragged, then glass shattered. Suddenly Luke’s voice screamed from below. It reverberated through the house, over and over. There were no words, just the torturous bellowings of a man possessed by a crucifying insanity.

‘Oh my God, what’s he doing?’ Corrie whispered, as Annalise’s hands curled into hers.

‘I can’t bear it,’ Annalise sobbed. ‘He’s going to kill us, Corrie. I know he is.’

‘Annalise, stop it,’ Corrie said, her chest starting to heave with her own panic. ‘We’ve got to find a way of getting out of here …’

‘But it’s impossible while we’re tied up like this.’

‘So we have to think of a way to make him untie us.’

‘But how?’

‘We have to go to the bathroom.’

‘But it’s right there. He’ll be standing there, waiting.’

‘Oh Annalise, try to be positive!’ Corrie wailed. ‘I’ll say I want to go, and you have to try to run as soon as his back is turned.’

‘But I can’t leave you here.’

‘You’ll have to.’

‘No! Let me go to the bathroom …’

‘Annalise! Just do as I say. It’s me he wants, so you have to try and get away.’

‘But what if …’

Annalise stopped as the door suddenly crashed open and Luke staggered in. His hair was dishevelled, so too were his clothes. He was panting for breath and saliva glistened on his lips. But what froze the blood in Corrie’s veins was the madness in his eyes.

‘You’ll be wanting to eat,’ he snarled, and whisking a rabbit from the floor he set it on the tray he was carrying.

‘Will this be the one you’re wanting?’ he said, moving towards Annalise. ‘Will this be the one you have your pretty little eyes on?’

‘Stop it!’ Annalise sobbed, cowering away from him.

‘Luke!’ Corrie cried nearing hysteria. She couldn’t see what was going on, but she didn’t have to – the menace in his voice was unmistakable.

‘What? You’ll not be wanting your favourite pet there, Siobhan?’ Luke’s voice was slurred with venom.

‘Luke! I need to go to the bathroom!’ Corrie shouted. ‘Luke, please!’

‘No!’ Annalise suddenly screamed.

Corrie twisted round and her terror and confusion were total as she saw Luke’s bloodied hand release the rabbit’s head.

‘No! No! I can’t stand it! I can’t stand it!’ Annalise choked. ‘Please God, help me!’

The blood was now dripping over her face, running into her eyes, her nose and her mouth.

‘Now we’ll be seeing what you’ll do before I feed you,’ he grinned, and standing erect he began removing his clothes.

‘Anything?’ Cristos said as Phillip walked into his room.

Phillip shook his head. In the past two days his shoulders had started to sag, and his handsome face had aged by ten years. ‘I’ve called everyone I can think of who knew
Geraldine.
Those who weren’t at home I’ve left messages to call me, the others … It seems that no one’s in touch with her now.’ He looked up. ‘Octavia’s flying in later today.’

Cristos’s face hardened and as his fists clenched his mother put a hand on his arm. ‘I take it you asked her if she knew where this Lassiter woman was now,’ he snapped.

‘Yes, I asked her,’ Phillip sighed. ‘She said, “dead for all I know.” And we have to face it Cristos, she could be.’

Cristos turned away, exhausted by his own anger, but unable to let it go.

Jeannie and Mariette exchanged glances, while Richard handed Phillip a coffee.

‘Cristos,’ Jeannie began tentatively, ‘I got to give the publicity people an answer pretty soon now.’

‘It’s out of the question, Jeannie,’ Cristos told her. ‘Now quit hassling me.’

‘What’s that?’ Phillip asked, more for something to say than out of curiosity.

‘They want to know if he’s going to the ceremony tonight,’ Mariette answered. ‘And they want him to give a press conference this afternoon.’

‘Oh, I see.’ He looked at Cristos. ‘Maybe you should do it. I mean, life has to go on, and this film is …’

‘Cristos you got to do it,’ Jeannie said, suddenly excited. ‘I mean, if you talk to the cameras it’ll be broadcast all over the world. You can say you’re looking for this Geraldine Lassiter, maybe she’ll hear it. Maybe someone she knows will hear it.’

Cristos’s eyes shot to hers, but before he could answer the telephone rang. He snatched it up.

‘Monsieur Bennati,’ the operator said. ‘Is Monsieur Denby with you? I have a call for him.’

Cristos turned to Phillip and held out the receiver.

Everyone in the room was very still as Phillip waited for the call to be put through. ‘Yes, yes, it’s Phillip Denby
here.
Oh, Dolly, hello how are you? Yes, that’s right I left a message … No, there’s no news yet … ’ There was a long pause as he listened to what Dolly was saying, then he said, ‘I see. Well, thanks very much for calling me back, Dolly. No, that’s quite all right, you’ve been a great help.’

As he hung up he turned to Cristos. ‘Dolly Patterson. She knew Geraldine … All she knows is that Geraldine married someone by the name of Duffel, years ago now, and went to live in the States. New York she thinks. She and Geraldine lost touch in the mid-seventies.’