Chapter 74

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR

A na struggled not to hyperventilate. Her pulse was racing, and she could hear it thrashing in her ears. The footsteps grew closer and then stopped.

Ana wiped her sweaty palm on her trousers, took the hypodermic from her pocket, and grasped it tightly. Please don't let me drop it , she prayed. She fought back the vomit that threatened to surge violently from her oesophagus.

‘Ana,' said a voice that sent a chill through her.

She opened the creaky door.

‘Couldn't we have done this somewhere more civilised?' he asked. ‘Or is this more what you're used to.'

His scathing words were the final slap in the face, his way of gaining control over her again by making her feel small and insignificant. His hand slid into his pocket. She panicked. Had he not done that, she might have been more gentle. Instead, she stabbed the needle deeply and viciously into his neck. He cried out and staggered in shock.

‘Jesus, what the fuck was that?' he said, panicking, his hand flying to where she'd injected him.

‘Rohypnol,' she said and was surprised at how calm her voice sounded. ‘Sorry I couldn't offer it to you in a glass of water, but it works quicker this way.'

His eyes filled with fear and he went to lift an arm to hit her, but she backed away.

‘I've researched the drug. That was a fairly high dose,' she said, aiming her taser at him. ‘I don't think the taser and the drug combined would be pleasant. So, if I were you, I'd do exactly as I ask. Sit in the chair.'

‘Bitch,' he slurred, the drug starting to affect his body.

Ana pointed to the old chair in the middle of the room. He just made it before losing control of his muscles.

‘Now you know what it feels like,' she said triumphantly, grabbing the B she thought and smiled at the irony. If he was really on the level, the wallet should contain ￡20,000.

Ana opened it to find two credit cards, a driver's licence and a ￡20 note. He had no intention of paying her anything. He was intending to finish her off like he did Laine. Now, she was really pissed off.

After pushing his thumb onto the phone and seeing it magically open, she sat back on the floor and began going through his messages, emails and photos. If he'd ever exchanged messages with Laine Lees, he had deleted them.

The images were innocent enough: photos of him and Sandy at after-conference parties, pictures of their child, holiday photos and images of them with Beth. He had albums for everything: Holidays, Family, Friends, Zoe and Work. She could imagine him being very organised. She fiddled with the phone while waiting for him to wake up. Suddenly, she found herself in a file marked ‘hidden'. She eagerly clicked into it only to find it was password protected.

‘Fuck,' she muttered.

Then he groaned. She looked up, and his eyes met hers.

He struggled with the cable ties, cursing her the whole time, but they were too tight, and he was too weak.

‘You only brought ￡20,' she said, sounding insulted.

He saw she'd emptied his pockets. ‘I haven't done anything wrong,' he said, struggling against the ties. ‘Why should I pay you ￡20,000?'

‘Do you remember me?'

His expression told her everything. Beads of sweat had built up on his forehead.

‘Of course you do. I was a virgin when you raped me. A fifteen-year-old virgin. That must have been a thrill, or have they all been virgins?'

‘You're delusional,' he scoffed. ‘Always have been. I never raped anyone.'

‘You said no one would believe a low life like me over a professional man like you, that I was nothing. But I'm not a nothing now, am I?'

His expression showed his fear, although she knew he was trying to hide it.

‘You can't use evidence you've obtained under duress,' he said triumphantly. ‘So, if you're recording this, you're wasting your time.'

She continued talking as if he hadn't spoken. ‘How many before me?'

‘Like I said, you're delusional.'

Ana laughed. Her revenge had finally come to fruition, and she was enjoying it. Maybe that made her as bad as him.

‘I'm not recording this,' she lied. ‘There's no point. This is my revenge. I want you to know what you did to me. I was fifteen. I suffered from post-traumatic stress disorder afterwards. You see, I had no one to turn to. You abused your position of trust in an environment that should have been safe for me. My mother died before I had time to tell her what a perverted psycho had done to me. Do you know how alone I felt?'

Something changed in his expression. Was it shame, guilt, sadness? Ana couldn't tell.

‘You thought you could change your name and come to Oxford and just forget scum like me, didn't you? Or did you realise I was stronger than the others?'

She stared into his face. ‘You were clever, though. I stupidly looked for a Richard Stephens, but you changed your name, didn't you? I nearly gave up and went home, and then Elaine Lees got attacked, and I interviewed you. In a warped way, I've got Elaine to thank for that.'

She laughed then.

‘I used a cheap detective. Cheap as chips, as we say back home. I was so fucking angry. He'd found a Doctor Raymond Stephens in Oxford, and he presumed that was the right one. I only recently discovered he found another Dr Stephens who'd changed his name before starting work in Oxford, but he didn't think it worth telling me about him, and apparently, I hadn't paid for two names. So it must have been fate that I found you.'

Ray Grace looked at the attractive woman before him and wanted to say, ‘Yes, I remember you. You were the best I ever had.'