Leah Giarratano - Vodka doesn't freeze

When she heard his derisive laughter and felt the warm stream of his urine splashing down onto her stomach and face, Jill knew that a feeling of relief was at odds with the situation. Anything but rape, she told herself. She stayed motionless, allowing nothing in her features to indicate that she was conscious.

Beside her, the white-eyed girl's mouth set in a hard, straight line. Sebastian entered the ballroom at the tail end of the applause; it briefly swelled again when the men noticed his presence. He smiled warmly at his guests, but was worried about the wild-eyed look of the boy on the other side of the room. He needed to handle the situation quickly – the child looked ready to break down. While some present were quite partial to a bit of crying, others, particularly his overseas guests, considered it distasteful to be confronted by high emotionality.

He raised his hands slightly, palms down, indicating the men should calm themselves, be seated.

'Friends,' his voice reached all corners of the room, 'I hope you are comfortable. Tonight's games will be underway soon. For those of you who have had enough to eat and drink, a movie is showing in the room on the right behind me, and I believe these gentlemen to my left are engaged in a swap meet. You might wish to join them. I would like to ensure that our youngest guest has something to eat and drink. Please excuse me.'

He cut across the room, and was with Tadpole and Jerome in a few long strides.

'My boy, you must be starving,' he smiled down, speaking in a soothing tone. 'Please let me help you choose some nice things to eat.' He steered the dazed little boy to the food table, and fetched for him a heavy white dinner plate, some silver cutlery and a linen napkin. He put them on the table in front of Jerome.

'Feel free to use your hands, Jerome,' he stage-whispered, and then stood back, indicating that Tadpole should step back with him. They stood out of earshot of the boy.

'I'm surprised at you, Tadpole,' his voice was steely. 'Couldn't you have given Jerome a little something to take the edge off things?'

'I wasn't sure what you wanted, Mr Sebastian.' Tadpole gave a small sycophantic smile.

'No matter. Five milligrams of Valium will do nicely. See if you can get him to drink this.' Sebastian took a side step to the linen-covered drinks table and removed a bright blue bottle from one of several ice and bottle-filled silver buckets.

'Vodka-pop. Blueberry, I believe. Kids love them.' He removed the bottle top with a twist of his palm. His big body blocking the view of others, Sebastian took a syringe from his jacket pocket and squirted a small amount of clear liquid down into the bottle. He swirled it a little and handed it to Tadpole.

'He's had nothing to eat or drink down there has he?'

'No, Mr Sebastian. Not since this morning.'

'Good, he'll be thirsty. Give him this. In fifteen minutes, take him to the bedroom next to my study. I'll bring the Japanese in there in twenty.'

'Yes, Mr Sebastian.'

Tadpole smiled beatifically and made his way over to the food table.

Sebastian thought there was time to visit the basement before the fun began.

He had no idea why the Jew had made it that way, but Sebastian had found the soundproofing of the basement invaluable over the years. Although he'd tested its effectiveness in absorbing sound many times, he still felt uncomfortable leaving Jamaal alone with the policewoman while he had a house full of friends. He knew Mahmoud could make a mess at times.

He squeezed his big body through the trapdoor in the cupboard floor. Ordinarily, he avoided this small entry, preferring the big panel and tunnel in the garage, but he had little time tonight and this was the closer access point. When he'd traversed the last tight turn, he opened the door to the big room.

'Jamaal, it smells terrible in here.' He quickly took in the woman's body on the floor, Mahmoud standing over it. He hoped she was not dead yet. There was much she could tell them before she and the shrink went to the bottom of the harbour.

When he reached Jamaal, he saw she was still breathing and decided not to comment on the piss. Although it was distasteful, he understood Jamaal's urges. Perhaps he'd give her to him when he had what he needed. He knew it was important to keep his dog happy.

'She's still out, I see, my friend,' said Sebastian. 'I bet she didn't think she would be meeting you this way.'

'Fucking bitch,' Jamaal kicked Jill in the ribs.

'Yes, thank you, Jamaal. I do need her awake.'

Jill couldn't stifle the moan following the kick in her side. Her stalling for time was over. She opened her sightless eyes.

'Sergeant Jackson, welcome to my home.'

Jill heard his height, knew where he was standing in relation to Jamaal.

'What did you do to my eyes?'

She'd debated asking, knowing that it would betray her weakness. If her blindness had been caused by the blow to the back of her head, they would not know about it. Still, within moments of her rising, they would become aware that she could not see.

'Ah, yes. My apologies. Jamaal saw fit to limit your movements using medical means. I'm afraid you've been rather knocked around a bit, but you are not here by invitation tonight, are you? It really can't be considered our fault that you have not been welcomed.' He paused. 'Excuse me a moment.'

Jill shuddered in horror at the term 'medical means'. What had they done to her eyes? She forced herself to listen to the men next to her.

'Jamaal, I need you to go upstairs and assist Tadpole with our little friend. If he has not taken the drink I left for him, you must calm him down by other means. I will be joining you up there shortly.'

'What about her?'

'I'd like to speak to Sergeant Jackson for a few moments. I'll make sure she cannot leave us before we return.'

Jill heard Jamaal grunt an assent and walk out of the room. She wondered how many times, before and after Honey, that these two spiders had sedated their young prey.

'You are holding Jerome Sanders captive here, aren't you?' Jill needed to know that he was still alive, that it was not some other poor boy Sebastian had just been discussing.

'Yes, he's a guest at a party upstairs for some of my select club members.'

Jill had to keep him talking. She had no idea how long she'd been out, but surely it could not be much longer before Scotty got here.

'What are you going to do with him?'

'Why, Jill, you know that better than most.'

With those words, the doors in Jill's mind slammed open; full realisation flooded her consciousness. The white-eyed girl gave Jill a wise, sad smile, as she processed the knowledge of who this man really was. Her gut filled with terror, nearly forcing evacuation of her bowels. His tone, his size, his smell, the dark, this room.

'I was disappointed when we met in the hospital that night, Jill, that you did not recognise me.' Sebastian's voice barely registered over the howling in her mind. 'I had not imagined I could be so forgettable, especially for you. Your first. Still, we were both very young, were we not? I like to think I have gained in skill since we knew one another.'

The white-eyed girl's face was now blank, impassive. She quietly listened to Mr Sebastian while Jill screamed. Sebastian talked over the top of the noise.

'Certainly I have learned that it is easy to forget, so I do understand, Jill. That is why, since we had our relationship, I have learned to video-record my encounters. I regret that I have no record of our time together. My mentor at the time – you'll recall him I hope, we shared our time together – was an old-fashioned man, not taken with technology.'

The white-eyed girl watched the heavy man reach down to help Jill into a sitting position. She stayed silent, watching Jill keening on the floor.