A Rip in Time (Out of Time #7) by Martin Monique

Author:Martin, Monique [Martin, Monique]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2014-07-11T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

THE FIRST THING HE heard was someone laughing. It was far away at first, but as he rose to the surface of consciousness it grew louder and more annoying. Victor knew from experience to remain motionless, to listen and learn what he could while his captors still thought him incapacitated.

He kept his eyes closed and tried not to move, although his arms ached. They were tied behind his back, and from the numbness in his hands, they had been for some time.

He heard men’s voices mostly, a few women. Loud and boisterous. They were talking about the latest murder, Annie Chapman’s murder. His heart sank. He’d failed again. This was becoming a bad habit.

Then he heard the tell-tale sound of glassware and smelled the unmistakable odor of stale beer. He knew before he opened his eyes that he was in a pub. Captured by a bunch of amateurs, he thought with disgust.

The last thing he’d remembered was following Chapman and then he’d been ambushed. He’d been foolish to underestimate them. Not the men themselves, he could have easily dispatched them both, but their number. It was a beginner’s mistake. One he would not make again.

He rolled his shoulders to bring some life back into his arms and groaned. They hadn’t just knocked him out, he realized. They’d taken a little of their frustration out on him. His ribs ached and now that he opened his eyes, he realized one was swollen, not shut, but it was thick and blood had dried at the corners, making his eyelid stick.

He opened his good eye, pushed himself back against the wall and took stock of his surroundings. It was the Ten Bells. He was tied up and tossed in the far corner, a sad little makeshift jail like a children’s fort made out of chairs surrounding him. And he was not alone.

Next to him, another man leaned into the corner of the wall, his head wedged uncomfortably there. His chest rose and fell slowly. Either asleep, passed out or unconscious, but alive.

“Finally got ‘em to listen me. Stupid coppers.”

That was Pizer’s voice.

“I told ‘em I was down at Shadwell’s, watchin’ the fire that night,” he continued and then laughed. “They didn’t believe me. Till one of their own said he saw me with his own two eyes. Berks.”

So, Pizer had an alibi for the murder. Wonderful, Victor thought. His suspect list was non-existent again. He turned and looked around the bar. He started to speak, but his throat was dry and he coughed and tried to swallow.

“Look who’s awake,” a man said as he tapped a friend on the shoulder.

The friend, the larger man from last night, turned around and grinned down at Victor. “Sleep well?”

Victor tried to sit up straighter, but his ribs protested. He looked up at the big man evenly. “Like a baby.”

Both men laughed.

Victor shifted his position to start working on the ropes that bound his hands. They were tied tightly, but the rope was thick and the job poorly done.

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