Fourth Day
David Keel revived to find himself in a dark and dank world, one that reeked of mildew and the smell of sweat. He tried to place where he was but found it futile until he noticed the rusty iron bars in front of him. He had inadvertently found the castle's dungeon!
David heard the sound of advancing footsteps, and then Mr. Putnam arrived with a pistol in his hand. He released the man who was in the cell to Keel's left. The man, addressed by the name of Carton, was ordered to sit in a crude wooden chair that looked almost as old as the establishment.
David Keel watched in interest as a third man entered the building, a look of unmitigated evil in his steely eyes. Mr. Carton rose to his feet in alarm and shouted, "Paine, what are you doing at this castle? Do you know why I'm being held a prisoner?"
Paine smiled evenly despite the rapid questions being hurled at him. "As vice-president of your corporation, soon to be president, I thought it would be most befitting to watch your demise."
"My . . . what?" Carton's eyes nearly bulged from his sockets as this gruesome idea sunk into his already addled brain.
"You've been holding the reigns too long, Carton; it's time for someone else to be in control." Mr. Paine paused before commencing his dialogue, "You see, Putnam is going to buy out our company, keeping on all the old workers, but combining our work with their plastics. Unfortunately, you are going to die, handing over the presidency to me."
"You overlooked one important factor: I haven't signed my name to any paper." Mr. Carton gloated as well as he could under the circumstances.
"Actually, that's not at all true." Mr. Paine removed a folder from his jacket pocket and handed it to Putnam. "The rest of the board reluctantly agreed to your terms after they saw Mr. Carton's signature approving the merger."
"But I tell you I didn't sign any documents!" Mr. Carton cried in desperation.
Putnam grinned nefariously as he replied, "No, you did not, but my men forged your signature so well that it fooled everyone."
"Where did you ever get my name?"
"We photographed it after you signed your name to the hotel registration. And now, no further questions, Mr. Carton; it's time for you to die." Putnam raised the silenced pistol in his had and fired two times right at the businessman's heart.
The deceased Mr. Carton crumpled to the floor with an ominous "thud." Paine gloated wickedly for several seconds before helping Putnam drag the body outside to a previously dug grave. They return after a short duration only to discover Dr. Keel staring piteously at them.
Paine looked panic stricken as he observed the good doctor for the first time. "He's not going to squeal on me and my crime, is he?"
Putnam calmly shook his head as he answered, "No, this stranger is going to die like the rest of them." He silenced the sniveling Haley, who was in the prison cell to Keel's right. He turned to Mr. Paine and said, "Now, you do understand our terms. If you die, I become the president of the company."
"I still think your conditions are the oddest and most complicated I have ever heard of."
"Nevertheless, you have agreed to them, and that is how they will remain."
"Well, you are certain that no one will discover that I hired you to dispose of Carton."
"Our plan is as fool-proof as can be. You see, Mr. Carton was into explosives. We'll just blow up the body, call it an accident, and there will be no remains for the doctors to examine." Putnam smoothly changed the subject by commenting politely, "Enjoy your new life as a president, Mr. Carton." The inflection in his voice turned to absolute menace as he added, "It will be a short career."
Not heeding the sputtering of his companion, Mr. Putnam pointed the gun at the abashed Paine's head and pulled the trigger. "Now you and your friend Carton will have an accident with explosives."
Keel's head was spinning from the events that had just occurred. Putnam was tricking these men by promising to murder their superior officers so that they could be in command of the businesses. But in reality, Putnam was using them to gain control of the corporations for his own devious plans! Someone must have put a death warrant on Miss Knight, but who? Not knowing her history, it was impossible to come to any feasible conclusions.
The despicable Mr. Oliver Putnam interrupted David Keel from his musings. "You seem to be deep in thought, sir, but I wouldn't worry too much. It won't really matter in a few hours what is going on around here." He patted his weapon assuredly as the doctor tried to remain serene.
**************
Miss Knight hurriedly explained to the receptionist that she wanted to check out immediately. Jean assured her it was no difficulty, and Emma began the tedious task of paying for her stay. She was in too much of a rush to go through the motions of writing a check, so she pulled out several hundred pounds from her purse. There certainly were advantages to being wealthy.
Jean pretended to become flustered as she said, "Oh, it appears I don't have any change! I apologise, but I'm afraid I'll have to go in the back room and retrieve some from our safe." She entered the door directly behind her and approached the reposing figure of Cunningham. She shook him lightly before she whispered, "Miss Emma Knight is leaving the castle!"
Mr. Cunningham jumped to his feet and immediately slipped out a door that had been hidden in the shadows. Running at Godspeed, it wasn't long before he reached the dungeon. Mr. Cunningham quickly informed the situation to Putnam before they both headed out to the point on the drive where they always abducted their victims.
Meanwhile, Jean returned to the counter where she dealt out the correct amount of change to the impatient Miss Knight. It was then that Emma realised she had no means of transportation because her car was out of commission. "How long does it take for a taxi cab to get here?" she enquired.
Jean looked up with interest as she replied, "Oh, it takes at least twenty minutes, but if you're in such a great hurry we can have one of our own drivers take you to your destination or at least halfway." Without waiting for a response, she grabbed the phone and dialed a number that was definitely not for an imaginary driver. In fact, it was for the Palace stables where Henderson was hiding until he received further instructions.
Jean spoke nonchalantly as she told him, "Get a car ready to drive a Miss Emma Knight."
"You mean you want me to pretend to be chauffeuring this bird when in truth I'll be taking her to her doom?" Henderson asked.
"Yes, that's exactly what I mean." Jean gently hung up the phone to face her oblivious enemy. "He will arrive presently for you, Miss Knight."
Emma was about to express her gratitude when Steed approached her. "Are you completely out of your mind, Miss Knight?" he hissed.
"I think you are the one who is insane," she snapped. "I am leaving, and no one is going to stop me; not you, nor Putnam."
"Your self-assurance is going to be your downfall."
"Why are you so confident in that, Mr. Steed?"
"Because vanity is my shortcoming as well and has gotten me into more tight situations than I ever needed to be involved in. Face it, Emma, were are two of a kind, two peas in a pod, birds of a feather . . ."
"Are you trying to tell me that we think alike?" Emma asked sarcastically. She hefted her two suitcases and headed toward the front door. She was surprised when Steed brushed past her, entering the car park. She didn't have long to dwell on it because her "ride" had pulled up to the stop.
"Are you Miss Knight?" a cockney voice called from the window.
"Yes, I am; please take me to the nearest bus stop," Emma returned as she placed her baggage and herself in the back of the auto. The darkness prevented her from distinguishing the features of her driver, or she would have recognised the man as being Henderson.
Mr. Henderson deftly maneuvered his way through the parking lot and turned onto the driveway. From his vantage point in his own car, Steed watched Miss Knight drive away with a man he was certain was a criminal. John Steed quickly followed the car down the gravel drive. To ensure that no one noticed him, he kept his headlights off.
When Henderson's car rounded a bend, Emma and he spotted Putnam lying immobile on the ground. Henderson slammed his foot on the brakes, and swerved off into a ditch. Whether this was intentional or not was an enigma. Steed also had to brake his rusty auto, but fortunately, the sound of the other car drowned out his preventing possible attention.
Miss Knight groaned as she was slammed onto her left side. Now she had been in two car accidents, and both of her sides were injured! However, she knew she must help the poor man who evidently was in a much worse position than she. Emma Knight exited the vehicle and approached the inert body. It was when she was a foot from him that she discovered her vast mistake. This man was the perverse Putnam, not a harmless victim.
She turned around to retreat but was confronted by her chauffeur who was actually one of Oliver Putnam's cohorts. She glared at him, her brown eyes mere slits in her head. As Henderson came at her with a wrench, she deftly dove to the right. Soon he was on top of her, but Emma took this moment to punch him in the stomach with her knee. Much to her glee, the wrench fell from his hands onto his own right foot.
She crouched to retrieve the heavy object and used it to smash his brawny hands. Enraged, Henderson began kicking her in the shins with his uninjured foot. Emma's nylons tore as the heavy onslaught continued. She quickly rolled on the gravel ground, evading his attacks. Unfortunately, both of her sides disagreed with her plan; she bit her lip to stop from screaming.
Oliver Putnam rose from his spot on the ground and joined the pummeling of Emma Knight. Kicking the ground near where she was sitting, he stirred up enough dust and gravel to make Miss Knight sneeze and cough. Emma's eyes began to sting as the dirt filled them, blinding her momentarily. She raised her hands to check the rest of the heavy blows that were being hurled at her from the two men. Her lovely evening dress was grimy from blood, sweat, and dirt.
Emma whipped off both of her shoes and threw them blindly at her two opponents. The objects missed both of their targets, and landed ungracefully several feet away. At that moment, they sailed back and hit the men squarely in the head. John Steed appeared, a look of pure contempt on his face. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size, men?"
Henderson and Putnam began to laugh amusedly at this comment. As they were chortling hysterically, Emma slowly rose to her feet and practised two kung fu moves on them that sent them flying to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Miss Knight was about to thank Steed, her saviour, when Cunningham emerged from a clump of cattails.
"The reason they were laughing is because they knew I was hidden," Mr. Cunningham exclaimed. He grabbed Emma by the wrist, but before Steed could take five steps, he pulled a revolver out of his pocket. "Move one step, and Miss Knight dies instantly." He vigorously placed the gun to her bedraggled head.
"Steed, just let him take me," Emma resignedly told the distraught spy. Cunningham pushed her down a well-trodden path before Steed could even respond.
To Be Continued!
David Keel revived to find himself in a dark and dank world, one that reeked of mildew and the smell of sweat. He tried to place where he was but found it futile until he noticed the rusty iron bars in front of him. He had inadvertently found the castle's dungeon!
David heard the sound of advancing footsteps, and then Mr. Putnam arrived with a pistol in his hand. He released the man who was in the cell to Keel's left. The man, addressed by the name of Carton, was ordered to sit in a crude wooden chair that looked almost as old as the establishment.
David Keel watched in interest as a third man entered the building, a look of unmitigated evil in his steely eyes. Mr. Carton rose to his feet in alarm and shouted, "Paine, what are you doing at this castle? Do you know why I'm being held a prisoner?"
Paine smiled evenly despite the rapid questions being hurled at him. "As vice-president of your corporation, soon to be president, I thought it would be most befitting to watch your demise."
"My . . . what?" Carton's eyes nearly bulged from his sockets as this gruesome idea sunk into his already addled brain.
"You've been holding the reigns too long, Carton; it's time for someone else to be in control." Mr. Paine paused before commencing his dialogue, "You see, Putnam is going to buy out our company, keeping on all the old workers, but combining our work with their plastics. Unfortunately, you are going to die, handing over the presidency to me."
"You overlooked one important factor: I haven't signed my name to any paper." Mr. Carton gloated as well as he could under the circumstances.
"Actually, that's not at all true." Mr. Paine removed a folder from his jacket pocket and handed it to Putnam. "The rest of the board reluctantly agreed to your terms after they saw Mr. Carton's signature approving the merger."
"But I tell you I didn't sign any documents!" Mr. Carton cried in desperation.
Putnam grinned nefariously as he replied, "No, you did not, but my men forged your signature so well that it fooled everyone."
"Where did you ever get my name?"
"We photographed it after you signed your name to the hotel registration. And now, no further questions, Mr. Carton; it's time for you to die." Putnam raised the silenced pistol in his had and fired two times right at the businessman's heart.
The deceased Mr. Carton crumpled to the floor with an ominous "thud." Paine gloated wickedly for several seconds before helping Putnam drag the body outside to a previously dug grave. They return after a short duration only to discover Dr. Keel staring piteously at them.
Paine looked panic stricken as he observed the good doctor for the first time. "He's not going to squeal on me and my crime, is he?"
Putnam calmly shook his head as he answered, "No, this stranger is going to die like the rest of them." He silenced the sniveling Haley, who was in the prison cell to Keel's right. He turned to Mr. Paine and said, "Now, you do understand our terms. If you die, I become the president of the company."
"I still think your conditions are the oddest and most complicated I have ever heard of."
"Nevertheless, you have agreed to them, and that is how they will remain."
"Well, you are certain that no one will discover that I hired you to dispose of Carton."
"Our plan is as fool-proof as can be. You see, Mr. Carton was into explosives. We'll just blow up the body, call it an accident, and there will be no remains for the doctors to examine." Putnam smoothly changed the subject by commenting politely, "Enjoy your new life as a president, Mr. Carton." The inflection in his voice turned to absolute menace as he added, "It will be a short career."
Not heeding the sputtering of his companion, Mr. Putnam pointed the gun at the abashed Paine's head and pulled the trigger. "Now you and your friend Carton will have an accident with explosives."
Keel's head was spinning from the events that had just occurred. Putnam was tricking these men by promising to murder their superior officers so that they could be in command of the businesses. But in reality, Putnam was using them to gain control of the corporations for his own devious plans! Someone must have put a death warrant on Miss Knight, but who? Not knowing her history, it was impossible to come to any feasible conclusions.
The despicable Mr. Oliver Putnam interrupted David Keel from his musings. "You seem to be deep in thought, sir, but I wouldn't worry too much. It won't really matter in a few hours what is going on around here." He patted his weapon assuredly as the doctor tried to remain serene.
**************
Miss Knight hurriedly explained to the receptionist that she wanted to check out immediately. Jean assured her it was no difficulty, and Emma began the tedious task of paying for her stay. She was in too much of a rush to go through the motions of writing a check, so she pulled out several hundred pounds from her purse. There certainly were advantages to being wealthy.
Jean pretended to become flustered as she said, "Oh, it appears I don't have any change! I apologise, but I'm afraid I'll have to go in the back room and retrieve some from our safe." She entered the door directly behind her and approached the reposing figure of Cunningham. She shook him lightly before she whispered, "Miss Emma Knight is leaving the castle!"
Mr. Cunningham jumped to his feet and immediately slipped out a door that had been hidden in the shadows. Running at Godspeed, it wasn't long before he reached the dungeon. Mr. Cunningham quickly informed the situation to Putnam before they both headed out to the point on the drive where they always abducted their victims.
Meanwhile, Jean returned to the counter where she dealt out the correct amount of change to the impatient Miss Knight. It was then that Emma realised she had no means of transportation because her car was out of commission. "How long does it take for a taxi cab to get here?" she enquired.
Jean looked up with interest as she replied, "Oh, it takes at least twenty minutes, but if you're in such a great hurry we can have one of our own drivers take you to your destination or at least halfway." Without waiting for a response, she grabbed the phone and dialed a number that was definitely not for an imaginary driver. In fact, it was for the Palace stables where Henderson was hiding until he received further instructions.
Jean spoke nonchalantly as she told him, "Get a car ready to drive a Miss Emma Knight."
"You mean you want me to pretend to be chauffeuring this bird when in truth I'll be taking her to her doom?" Henderson asked.
"Yes, that's exactly what I mean." Jean gently hung up the phone to face her oblivious enemy. "He will arrive presently for you, Miss Knight."
Emma was about to express her gratitude when Steed approached her. "Are you completely out of your mind, Miss Knight?" he hissed.
"I think you are the one who is insane," she snapped. "I am leaving, and no one is going to stop me; not you, nor Putnam."
"Your self-assurance is going to be your downfall."
"Why are you so confident in that, Mr. Steed?"
"Because vanity is my shortcoming as well and has gotten me into more tight situations than I ever needed to be involved in. Face it, Emma, were are two of a kind, two peas in a pod, birds of a feather . . ."
"Are you trying to tell me that we think alike?" Emma asked sarcastically. She hefted her two suitcases and headed toward the front door. She was surprised when Steed brushed past her, entering the car park. She didn't have long to dwell on it because her "ride" had pulled up to the stop.
"Are you Miss Knight?" a cockney voice called from the window.
"Yes, I am; please take me to the nearest bus stop," Emma returned as she placed her baggage and herself in the back of the auto. The darkness prevented her from distinguishing the features of her driver, or she would have recognised the man as being Henderson.
Mr. Henderson deftly maneuvered his way through the parking lot and turned onto the driveway. From his vantage point in his own car, Steed watched Miss Knight drive away with a man he was certain was a criminal. John Steed quickly followed the car down the gravel drive. To ensure that no one noticed him, he kept his headlights off.
When Henderson's car rounded a bend, Emma and he spotted Putnam lying immobile on the ground. Henderson slammed his foot on the brakes, and swerved off into a ditch. Whether this was intentional or not was an enigma. Steed also had to brake his rusty auto, but fortunately, the sound of the other car drowned out his preventing possible attention.
Miss Knight groaned as she was slammed onto her left side. Now she had been in two car accidents, and both of her sides were injured! However, she knew she must help the poor man who evidently was in a much worse position than she. Emma Knight exited the vehicle and approached the inert body. It was when she was a foot from him that she discovered her vast mistake. This man was the perverse Putnam, not a harmless victim.
She turned around to retreat but was confronted by her chauffeur who was actually one of Oliver Putnam's cohorts. She glared at him, her brown eyes mere slits in her head. As Henderson came at her with a wrench, she deftly dove to the right. Soon he was on top of her, but Emma took this moment to punch him in the stomach with her knee. Much to her glee, the wrench fell from his hands onto his own right foot.
She crouched to retrieve the heavy object and used it to smash his brawny hands. Enraged, Henderson began kicking her in the shins with his uninjured foot. Emma's nylons tore as the heavy onslaught continued. She quickly rolled on the gravel ground, evading his attacks. Unfortunately, both of her sides disagreed with her plan; she bit her lip to stop from screaming.
Oliver Putnam rose from his spot on the ground and joined the pummeling of Emma Knight. Kicking the ground near where she was sitting, he stirred up enough dust and gravel to make Miss Knight sneeze and cough. Emma's eyes began to sting as the dirt filled them, blinding her momentarily. She raised her hands to check the rest of the heavy blows that were being hurled at her from the two men. Her lovely evening dress was grimy from blood, sweat, and dirt.
Emma whipped off both of her shoes and threw them blindly at her two opponents. The objects missed both of their targets, and landed ungracefully several feet away. At that moment, they sailed back and hit the men squarely in the head. John Steed appeared, a look of pure contempt on his face. "Why don't you pick on someone your own size, men?"
Henderson and Putnam began to laugh amusedly at this comment. As they were chortling hysterically, Emma slowly rose to her feet and practised two kung fu moves on them that sent them flying to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Miss Knight was about to thank Steed, her saviour, when Cunningham emerged from a clump of cattails.
"The reason they were laughing is because they knew I was hidden," Mr. Cunningham exclaimed. He grabbed Emma by the wrist, but before Steed could take five steps, he pulled a revolver out of his pocket. "Move one step, and Miss Knight dies instantly." He vigorously placed the gun to her bedraggled head.
"Steed, just let him take me," Emma resignedly told the distraught spy. Cunningham pushed her down a well-trodden path before Steed could even respond.
To Be Continued!