I SHALL FIND YOU Read online

  I SHALL FIND YOU

  ONY BOND

  A crime thriller suspense

  Copyright © 2016 by Ony Bond

  All rights reserved. No part of this book shall be used, reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or quoted in any manner whatsoever, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews or critical articles.

  Publisher’s Note

  This is a work of fiction. All characters in this book are a figment of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or places, is purely coincidental.

  Acknowledgements

  Creating a story is tantamount to climbing a steep mountain whose top must be surmounted. Special thanks go to my family without whose support this book would not be here. Any mistakes are entirely my own.

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  PROLOGUE

  Pain departed as darkness washed over Godfree. After continuous torture his friend Aaron finally grew silent.

  The torturer, Comrade Moto dumped a bucketful of water on him and shouted. “Are you dead yet? Time to smash your head!”

  Godfree saw Moto lift a hammer, hit Aaron’s head. The sound it made was tantamount to a lemon being crushed.

  Moto glanced at Godfree. “Your friend’s dead, comrade. Gone to join his ancestors. You’re next.”

  Moto grabbed Aaron’s legs, pushed him onto the floor and dragged him from the room. Now only the blood trail betrayed Aaron had ever existed. How long would Godfree stay alive in this dungeon of torture? He felt himself falling into a dark bottomless tunnel.

  Something strange happened.

  He saw himself come outside his body. Now he was in two dimensions. He was alive and younger, hovering over the inert person on a table he recognized as himself. Comrade Moto lifted the hammer.

  “Are you still alive, comrade?” Moto said. “I’ve cut and burnt your back, done everything else. Yet you still refuse to die.” He felt his chest. “Mm, no heartbeat. Looks like I don’t need to crush your head after all. You’ve been hard to kill. Now the job’s finally done. I need to finish, go grab some beers and find a girl.”

  He threw the hammer on the floor. Started whistling. Dumped the body in the back of a truck. And then drove into the night. The vehicle lights pierced the darkness. Comrade Moto stopped by the side of a road, gripped the carcass and chucked it over the side. It fell into the bushes. Then he drove back to the house. A light rain fell and soaked the body.

  Observing everything from his other body, Godfree saw another car appear and stop. The door opened. A man and woman stepped out to urinate, their forms visible in the headlights.

  “Don’t leave me,” the woman called.

  And then she jumped, grabbed his arm and screamed.

  “What’s the matter now, Mercy?”

  She pointed, hand shaking. “There’s an animal over there. Look!”

  “Be quiet! You’re imagining things.”

  “Let’s leave! Where are you going?”

  The man checked. Alarm crossed his face. “It’s a man.”

  “A man? It can’t be! Let’s go, please.”

  “He’s naked and viciously beaten.”

  “Leave him, this place scares me.”

  “He could be alive. I must check.” He drew closer to the still body and touched it. Then he straightened, hurried to the car, opened the boot, grabbed a first-aid kit and stethoscope. Kneeling beside the man, he wiped his chest, checked the pulse and listened.

  A voice spoke in Godfree’s ear. “It’s not your time yet. Go back.”

  “No, I don’t want to return to that battered and ugly body. It’s so peaceful here.”

  He saw himself walking in a place with green mountains, trees and valleys. Colourful birds sang and hoped from tree branches. Everything here was serene and bursting with life. He wanted to remain here forever.

  Now the voice was louder. “It’s not time. You must return.”

  “I can’t leave this place. Why can’t I stay here?”

  He felt himself pushed back into his old body. Then he heard the man exclaim, surprise in his tone.

  “This man’s alive!”

  The woman’s voice was louder. “The thieves that robbed him will come back, steal the car and rob us. Let’s go. He’s dead, David. We don’t even know him. If he’s alive someone’ll stop and help.”

  “Do you expect me to go a hotel and leave him to die?”

  She shouted. “I want to have beers, enjoy myself. You rarely ever take time off from work, relax and have fun. Why do you always think of patients first? If you don’t leave this man here and we got to a hotel and enjoy ourselves, we are finished. I’ll find a man who cares more about me than his job.”

  “I’m a doctor and we’re taking him to hospital.”

  She stamped her foot. “Did you even hear what I said? You aren’t on duty tonight David, and you don’t even know him. He could be a robber who was caught stealing. Do you have to be a doctor all the time? I wish we hadn’t stopped.”

  “Will you shut up? You can remain and walk to the hotel if you want. This man needs help now. Don’t even know if he can get to hospital alive.”

  CHAPTER 1

  After holding her for a day in the basement of his house in Stones, the time to kill her had arrived. She was a hitchhiker; the blonde abductor had picked on Wednesday night as he drove home. He met the lone blonde the day before. The night had been dark. She was illuminated in the lights of an approaching car, one hand waving him to stop. His blood quickened. He stopped, gave her a lift. She said her name was Tracy and had left her boyfriend Eric that same day after a quarrel when she caught him in bed with another girl. He had cheated on her before.

  The killer asked where she was headed. She needed to catch a train to London to stay with her aunt. He told her there were no trains at this late hour. But he could help, give her a place for the night. There was no need for her to worry as he shared the house with his older sister who was out with her boyfriend.

  Tracy agreed to come.

  They parked at his house, a cottage in a cul de sac with a back entrance hidden from his neighbours. The Smiths were retired civil servants, who knew him as an amiable guy who waved at them when they met in the street and exchanged a greeting. Not as the man the police were looking for.

  She followed him into the cottage, asked to use the bathroom. When she stepped out he offered to show her the guest-room. Without suspicion she followed him into the basement. Suddenly, she stopped, stared at the chains and bed in the centre of the room. Alarm rose on her face. He loved such moments when they showed fear. Realized they had been tricked, screamed, ran, fought and begged. He dragged her to the bed. Screaming was futile - the room was soundproof. Nobody outside would hear her. He chained to the
bed and then introduced himself.

  Tracy’s eyes bulged.

  Police were still searching for the girls. They had no clue. The chained girl looked horrified. Her eyes pleaded as she made sounds through the gag and tried to break the chains.

  He laughed. “Give it up, Tracy. You’re not going anywhere, are mine until I decide when to kill you. I killed a man and two girls already. You’ll be my fourth victim.”

  And then he strangled her.

  Now it was time to get her to her burial place. His lake. He zipped her in a black bag. Carried it to the garage and dumped it in the car boot. The advantage was he could approach the garage from inside the house, so the neighbours never saw a thing. When he drove out his neighbours were asleep. The road to the lake through the woods was empty and silent. He parked under the trees beside the lake glanced around him before switching off the lights. After tying a rock to the bag he waded into the water and released it. Watched everything sink and went back to the car. His last glance before he left was at the silent and serene lake that hid its secrets well. He drove back home as he went over the abduction and death of the three girls.

  No dead bodies had been discovered yet. All the victims were young blonde women. Dumb detectives. Soon they would discover another missing girl.

  He had already selected his next target from the moment he met her. Knew without doubt Rose would have to die. The only problem was getting her alone. That meant stalking her. Green-eyed and blonde with that small nose and full lips, how like his mother she looked. They could have been sisters. Maybe they were related. Each time he saw her made him recall the woman he hated. All Rose needed was dress in a short mini-skirt, paint her lips red, and put high stilettoes on her feet. Then she would look the perfect clone of his mother. That prostitute had walked out on him and his dad. Later in life he searched for her. But he never found her. All people recalled of her was a prostitute who had been strangled by a client in a dark alley. He had cried - he should have been the one to kill her for abandoning him. His dad became a drunkard when she left, got into drugs and then prison. The boy got bounced from one foster home to another.

  More than ever he was convinced his mother had sent Rose from the grave. She was laughing at him. Mocking him that he never found her alive. He would kill her emissary, send her back to hell to join that prostitute. It was only a matter of time before Rose joined the other girls in the lake. He had already bought the bag to put her after he violated and killed her. How he would enjoy it. Watch that beautiful face scream as life seeped from her.

  Just a matter of time. No, he must be specific. Give her two months to live. Eight weeks? That was too much. Cut it down to six, because he needed time to catch her alone. Six weeks would be final, starting today. He imagined Rose in bed fast asleep without any idea what was coming for her.

  “Enjoy what you still have of your life, Rose,” he said. “Because I’m coming for you.”

  The killer started humming.

  CHAPTER 2

  Godfree felt the tap on his shoulder.

  “Care for a coffee, mate?” James asked.

  The African smiled back at the Englishman who always wore a smile.

  “Sure, Jamie. Thanks.”

  “Let’s go.”

  They headed down the steps from the electricians’ workshop, passed rows of noisy and busy production lathe and grinding machines, and halted at the coffee machines. James slotted in a coin, waited for the cups and handed one to Godfree.

  “Cheers.”

  “You’re welcome, mate,” James said as he took a sip. “Got a girlfriend yet?”

  The other shook his head. “No.”

  “Still pinning over that girl who cheated you?”

  “What about you? No girlfriend either?”

  “Nope.”

  “A handsome bloke like you?”

  James shrugged his shoulders. “Why bother when I can pick one in a pub? I’m like you too, Godfree. It’s all a matter of trust. A woman will use you and walk away. Hurt you bad. Someone said the strong man’s the one who can live without one.”

  “Some priests hate women but abuse little boys.”

  “Right, hypocrites hiding under robes. Godfree, looks like our blonde abductor's struck again.”

  “Heard you and Frank talking about it this morning. Does seem there’s a deranged man out there who hates blondes.”

  “He has a reason. Perhaps his blonde girlfriend dumped him.”

  “Talking of that blonde abductor?”

  They turned. Neither had heard Rose approach.

  “Hi, Rose.” James said. “Let me get you a drink.”

  “Hi,” Godfree said.

  The green-eyed girl with long ash-blonde hair ignored him, accepted a cup from James.

  “Thanks. That kidnapper’s one twisted individual.” She glared at Godfree. “Are you saying if his girlfriend dumped him, that gives him the right to kidnap girls?”

  “We were saying the kidnapper must hold a grudge,” James said.

  “He wouldn’t be the first man to lose a girl. If she says no he should kill her?”

  “There could be abuse in his childhood,” Godfree pointed out.

  “Three girls are missing, and your conclusion is the madman has a right because he was abused as a child?” she snapped. “That’s shallow thinking.”

  “I never condoned kidnapping. It was only a theory.”

  “For goodness sake!” She looked as if she was about to chuck the coffee in his face. “Let’s get real here. James, will you tell this guy to shut up? Girls are disappearing even as we speak. All he can do is drink coffee and be casual about it. Tell us where these girls are.”

  Her eyes glittered.

  “Rose.” James touched her shoulder. “Godfree hasn’t kidnapped these girls. I’m the one who said first the person responsible must have a reason. Could be abuse’s a strong motive.”

  “How do you know this guy standing here isn’t capturing and cutting them into small pieces? Police need to search his house.”

  “You’re getting carried away.”

  “I’m not! Suppose I’m his next target? The blonde abductor may be standing a yard from me this minute. Look at the colour of my hair. In case you didn’t notice, it’s blonde.”

  “Rose-”

  “Leave me alone, James! I’m talking to this refugee. Answer me. Where did you hide them? You left your home for this country, cheated your way past our borders and repay us by killing our girls? That’s giving us the finger. Did you kill others out there and ran before you were caught? Are you going to reply? I should dump this coffee in your face.”

  “Are you accusing him of capturing those girls? It’s not him.”

  “Let him answer. Where are they?”

  Godfree wanted to tell her, “What you need is to be held on my knee and slapped hard, girl.”

  Instead he replied, “I’ve no idea where they are.”

  “Last I heard they were tied up in your cellar.”

  “Feel free to visit me and inspect my house. I’ll give you my address.”

  “Get back home!”

  “I belong here, am a British citizen too.”

  He sauntered back to the shop, dumped the half-empty cup in the bin, thinking of her latest outburst. Rose and her dad Frank both worked at this factory. Did she seriously think he was the person kidnapping girls? That girl was just as rude as her father. But today she had taken her hatred to a new level. James had told him her older sister had been sexually assaulted by an African refugee from Godfree’s country of birth. Godfree guessed since then every refugee was a potential danger to Rose.

  He was busy on a machine when James arrived.

  “Don’t let Rose upset you, mate. Guess she’s scared, with her being blonde too. I told her there’s no way you can be that kidnapper.”

  Godfree shrugged his shoulders. “In her eyes I am. Need a strong alibi if the police ever come asking questions.”

  “You aren’t a
suspect, never killed those girls.” His voice was firm. “I’ll vouch for you.”

  “You think they’re dead? Could be someone drugged, trafficked and sold them.”

  “No.” James’ voice was strong. “He has a motive. There’s a link the police are missing. They are failing miserably to pick this. Stones detectives and Scotland Yard don’t even know. They should ask why blonde girls and not brunettes are being kidnapped. He’s killing them.”

  “They have to be alive.”

  “They aren’t, not after this long. That killer is brainy.”

  “As long as they haven’t been found we must have hope.”

  “Hope won’t bring them back. It’s too late.”

  “If I didn’t know you well enough, you’d be a suspect, Jamie. Sound like you admire this crazy abductor.”

  “I have an intuition about this Godfree. Dreamt they’re dead. If the police ever find them, it’ll be too late. In my dream they never caught the killer or found the girls.”

  “I believe they’re alive, so stop trying to scare me.”

  “Where are they then? I told you that blonde abductor’s got it planned. He’s a brilliant strategist.”

  “Are you praising this twisted individual that’s capturing girls?”

  Godfree watched James leave, a frown on his face. Did James admire the person kidnapping girls? It had sounded like that. Those girls were alive. They must be. James was being heartless. Godfree would not allow himself to believe him and his dream.

  It was proving a bad day.

  First that girl had accused him of murdering those girls. And now his friend spoke as if he was sure the victims were dead. For a moment he had thought he was the blonde abductor. But he knew him. They got along fine. He was one of the people who had accepted him when he arrived at this place. How could he even entertain such a thought? James had even defended him before Rose a while ago.

  In a quarter of an hour he had fixed the machine and handed it back to the operator.

  “James believes you’ve nothing to do with those missing girls. I’m not sure, have already called the police hotline,” Rose spoke.