Стюарт Макбрайд - 22 Dead Little Bodies and Other Stories

‘I’m bursting, OK?’ Logan crossed his legs. Didn’t help though, was still like a spaniel dancing on his bladder.

Steel pulled a face. ‘Serves you right for drinking all that water.’

‘I was thirsty.’

‘So go pee in the wardrobe.’

‘How?’ He levelled his voice, weighed out each word as if talking to a very small, very stupid child. ‘My ankle’s handcuffed to the bed . I can’t get off the bed like you can. If I could we wouldn’t be in this sodding mess.’

‘You’re a dick, you know that, don’t you?’

‘Going to have to pee off the edge of the bed.’

‘Oh great. So I widdle in the wardrobe like a civilised human being, and you just pish all over the floor like some sort of animal. And then we get to lie here marinating in the stench.’

He turned and stared at her. ‘You don’t exactly piddle rosewater yourself.’ Then he jerked his head at the other side of the room. ‘Shove the bed over there and I’ll pee in the corner. Well, corner-ish.’

‘Oh God, I can hear it splashing!’

‘Will you shut up? This isn’t exactly a precision instrument at the best of times.’

‘Urgh...’

‘Something beginning with “D”?’ Logan glanced around the room. ‘Door?’

‘Nope.’

‘Dresser.’

‘Nope.’

Hmm... Ah, of course — dangling from the side of the blinds. ‘Drawstring.’

‘Nah. Give up? It’s him on the floor: “Dickhead”.’

The little creases deepened between Steel’s eyebrows. ‘It’s just, sometimes, I really miss my dad, you know? He’d have loved Jasmine.’

‘He OK with the whole gay thing?’

‘Course he was. What’s not to like?’

‘Fair enough.’ Logan frowned up at the ceiling, making patterns from the light and shadow. ‘Never really knew my father.’

‘Oh aye, Mum put it about a bit, did she?’

A laugh barked out of Logan, setting the mattress vibrating. ‘Can you imagine?’ Then a shudder. ‘Actually, better not. No, he was in the Job. Constable Charles McRae. Went to pick up a bloke on a warrant for aggravated burglary in Stonehaven. Only the guy had a sawn-off shotgun and wasn’t cool with going back to prison again. I was five.’

Steel reached across the duvet with her spare hand and gave his shoulder a squeeze. ‘Sorry.’

‘Why do you think I joined the force? Couldn’t think of anything that would hack my mother off more.’

‘Pfff... Curtains?’

Logan shook his head. ‘Nope.’

‘Carpet?’

‘That’s not a carpet, it’s a rug.’

‘Oh.’ She chewed at her top lip. ‘Cushions?’

‘Give up?’ He pointed at the window. ‘Clouds.’

‘What? It has to be inside the room, you idiot. Who taught you how to play?’

‘Oh-ho, Chuckles is on the move.’

Logan peered over the edge of the bed. Steel was right: Alec Hadden was twitching. Then a groan. Then a cough that left a smear of red-flecked sputum on the floorboards.

Steel raised her eyebrows. ‘Thought I’d killed him for a bit there.’

A tremble ran through Alec, wrists and ankles still firmly chained and padlocked behind his back. ‘Gnnnnnnngh...’ And then he went limp again.

‘Serves you right, you wee shite. That’s what you get for abducting police officers.’

‘Well?’

Logan’s fingers walked along the brass tubing, tracing the corner where the headboard joined the main frame. Smooth metal, slick and cool. There — a hexagonal lump. ‘It’s a nut.’

‘So undo it!’

He grabbed the sides and twisted.

Nothing.

Tried again. Gritted his teeth. ‘Come on you wee sod...’ Fire raced through his fingers, up into his palm. Then wrist. Then, ‘It won’t budge. Too tight.’

‘Right. So we need to loosen it. OK.’ She sucked at her teeth. ‘Don’t have a spanner, just have to go back to shoogling. Clockwise shoogling.’ A breath. ‘Come on Roberta, you can do this.’ She poked Logan in the shoulder. ‘Eyes. And keep them closed.’

He scrunched them shut. ‘OK.’

She folded the duvet back on top of him, then there was some grunting.

The handcuff around his wrist twisted. ‘Ow, ow, ow, ow!’

‘You think that’s bad?’ Her weight settled on top of him, one knee on either side. ‘How do you think I feel?’

He slapped his hand over his eyes as well, just in case.

‘I swear Laz, if you get a stiffy during this—’

‘Just get on with it.’

‘Deep breath, Roberta. Think of Natalie Portman.’ Then the thrusting started. Back and forward. Harder. Making the frame creak. Then Steel added a side-to-side thrust of the hips, getting the bed to make little circles. Harder and faster.

Logan pulled his head further into the pillow, out of the way of anything that might be swinging about up there.

Creaks, groans, pinging noises, grunting.

This would be a really bad time to be rescued.

Ping, creak, groan, grunt, then thumping joined the mix. Probably the bed’s legs banging on the scarred, piddled-on floorboards. Her voice was laboured, squeezed out between breaths as she kept on grinding. ‘Try now!’

Oh God. Don’t look. Don’t look.

He slipped his hand back beneath the bed, feeling for the nut.

The whole thing rocked and wobbled, joints opening up and closing with each thrust. Be lucky if he didn’t lose a finger.

The nut was cold and hard in his hand. Logan grabbed it. Squeezed. Twisted... ‘Come on!’

And it gave. Not much, but a tiny twist. Again. As long as he timed his turn with the right point in the rotation, the nut loosened. Again. And again. And again. ‘It’s coming! Yes! It’s coming! Yes! Yes! Yes!’

Then it wasn’t coming any more. The nut jolted out of his grasp and the whole side of the bed collapsed as he snatched his hand out of the way.

‘You wee beauty!’

‘Ow...’ If anything it was even more uncomfortable than being handcuffed to the unbroken bed. Now the whole frame was out of alignment and the cuff around his wrist and ankle were pulling him apart.

Steel scrambled off him. ‘Keep those sodding eyes shut.’ Then there was more grunting and groaning. But thankfully no thrusting. ‘Come on... Aggggghhhhhh... Break you wee—’

Clang .

And the other side of the bed collapsed too.

‘Woo-hoo!’

The scuff of bare feet on floorboards. Then she let go of his hand. ‘Right, I need you to sit up.’

Logan did as he was told, struggling in the darkness, dragging the headboard with him.

‘Keep going. Forwards. Grab your ankles.’

‘This better not be more kinky stuff.’

‘Just do it.’ Then another bout of grunting as the headboard shifted. ‘Going to wedge the bars over the corner post... There you go. Might want to grit your teeth for this bit.’

‘What? What are you— Aaaaagh!’ Pain ripped through his wrist as the handcuffs tried to bend it in a way it really hadn’t evolved for.

‘One more go.’ A grunt.

‘Are you trying to kill me?’

Then a ping rang out and the pressure on his wrist disappeared.

Logan risked a peek. She’d used the corner post as a lever to snap one end of the bar out of place. And now the handcuffs were free. He shut his eyes again before he saw anything else.

‘HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I’m a sodding genius !’ Steel slapped him on the back. ‘Told you I’d get us out of here. Now we do the same crowbar trick with the footboard, and we’re good to go. Brace yourself.’

Groan. Strain. Ping .

Logan slid backwards down the mattress.

They were free. Naked and still handcuffed together, but at least they weren’t attached to that bloody bed any more.