Out of the Line of Fire by Mark Henshaw Read Free Book Online Page A

to him in return. It was only as his hand closed over hers that she was gripped by an overwhelming fear. A scream began to rise in her throat but it was already too late. An inexorable chain of events had been set in motion the moment she had turned into the laneway. She smelt the chloroform on the cloth he held to her face and felt herself grow faint.
    When she came to she found herself in a lavishly decorated room. Her hands and feet had been tied to the arms and legs of an intricately carved chair and she was lightly gagged. The curtains were drawn and the room was lit by a single very elaborate chandelier suspended from the roof by a short piece of gold chain. She could see from the clock on the mantelpiece that it was just after eleven. She tried to free herself but could not. Then a heavy, wooden-panelled door on her left opened and a man walked in. He was well dressed and appeared to be in his early forties. He sat down in a chair opposite her. She began to struggle.
    Then he spoke. His voice was clear, firm, reassuring.
    In a moment, he said, I will untie you. You must understand that while you are here you will not be harmed by anyone, but there are a few things you should know.
    She started to struggle again, then tried to scream, but it was useless. It was clear that, for the moment, she was powerless.
    This room and the two adjacent rooms which will be your home for the time being have been completely sound-proofed and isolated from the rest of the house. I have spent a long time preparing for your stay. Everything you need has been provided for, but if there is anything I have overlooked then you have only to ask. You will be here for about twelve months, perhaps a little longer. At the end of this time you will be amply rewarded.
    He got up and came over to her.
    I hope, in the meantime, you will come to trust me but I can well understand that initially you will be fearful. I assure you that there is absolutely no need for this.
    He walked behind her and undid the thin white cloth that had been tied across her mouth. Her immediate reaction was to scream for help. He made no attempt to stop her, as if to convince her of the truth of what he had said to her. She began to sob.
    What do you want from me? she cried.
    For many years, he said, I have wanted a child. My wife, unfortunately, was unable to have children and when she died I decided for a number of reasons never to remarry. And yet my desire to have a child remained unabated. The few women I considered suitable to be the mother of my child were either already married or would never have been persuaded to enter into a mutually satisfying business arrangement. Three years ago I began my search for the perfect woman or, at least, the woman I considered to be perfect as the mother of my child. Six months ago, I found her. That woman is you.
    She looked at him dumbfounded.
    Why me?
    That’s simple, he said. I want a beautiful child. I couldn’t live with a child I didn’t think was beautiful. I want someone who is enchanting, someone on whom I can lavish everything I have to offer, which is considerable, someone, in short, who is perfect. If you could have been that child I would have had you. But seeing that that is impossible, I have chosen you to bear my child for me.
    So for a little over a year he kept her in her luxurious prison. He forced himself upon her and she became pregnant to him. Eventually she gave birth to a baby girl. He had been overjoyed.
    She had been allowed to suckle the child for a little over a month. He had been right—the baby was simply the most beautiful creature she had ever seen. Then, one morning after breakfast, she had felt a little drowsy and had lain down to sleep. When she awoke she was sitting in a bus shelter in a narrow street surrounded by high buildings. Her baby was not with her and she was seized with panic.
    She had staggered to the end of the street thinking perhaps that she might see a car driving off, but there