Black Butterfly by Mark Gatiss

Author:Mark Gatiss [Gatiss, Mark]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Simon & Schuster UK
Published: 2008-10-30T11:00:00+00:00

.11.

DÉTENTE

The boy resembled the Descended Christ. A Regnault, perhaps, the crisp white underwear in place of a loincloth.

Tick-tock, baby. Tick-tock.

My mind buzzed. What the hell was going on?

The masked figure returned to Kum’s prone form. He held something in his hand. Some instrument of torture, I imagined, but the angle of the plate glass and the glare of the huge surgical lamps conspired to obscure it from my view.

I gazed down at the youth, noticing the tiny handful of wiry hairs scattered over the hard, flat pads of his chest muscles. In my mind, conflicting thoughts tumbled over one another. He’d been in at the death of Vyvyan Hooplah. Then, on the train, he’d tried unsuccessfully to warn me off. Finally, he’d shot dead Whitley’s contact in the Hagia Sophia. So what had he done to displease his masters? Why was he lying there, presumably about to suffer some unspeakable agony?

The lad lay completely still, leather straps binding him tightly to the operating table. Was he already unconscious, I wondered, or merely sleeping?

The answer came out of the blue as his heavy-lidded eyes fluttered open. In a vain attempt to secure anonymity, I fumbled for my gas-mask. Too late. Kingdom Kum’s almond eyes focused on me, and a befuddled frown of recognition passed across his face.

Now what?

I swore softly to myself as I saw him nodding upwards in my direction. His torturer span round, and he too became aware of my silvery head bobbing at the window.

Rooted to the spot, I watched as the white-coated man strode across to a console on the far side of the room. Leaning over, he flicked a small red switch. In the corridor, a Tannoy system crackled into life.

‘Kemal?’ came the technician’s voice, his heavy accent distorted further by the microphone. ‘Where the hell have you been? Stop gawping and get yourself down here, will you? This one is tough.’

I weighed up my options. If I made a run for it, the torturer would become suspicious and no doubt alert others. On the other hand, I’d come seeking information. I would see what I could discover! So, fastening the straps on the gas-mask and hoping that, with my face obscured, I could somehow pass for the missing Kemal, I made my way down the stairs.

By the time I entered the operating theatre, the white-coated torturer had returned to the captive Kingdom Kum. ‘Now,’ he hissed at the semi-naked youth, ‘you will start talking. You will die, of course. How quickly and how painlessly, my friend, is entirely your decision.’

Kingdom Kum remained silent.

The torturer chuckled menacingly. ‘So you are the tough guy, yes? Like in the John Wayne pictures, yes? Well, we shall see how long that lasts.’

White-coat paused and glanced over at me. ‘What’s the matter with you today, Kemal? Must I do everything myself? Oh, and take your gas-mask off, you coward. There’s nothing dangerous in here.’ He resumed his appraisal of Kingdom Kum. ‘Well, apart from me, that is.’

Silently, I made my way over, and stood just behind the torturer’s right shoulder.

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