Disclaimers: as before.
As soon as she was left alone in the damp, stone vault Sydney entered into a whirl of activity. As could be predicted, the telephone had no dialing tone, so she dismantled it completely to see if there were any wires in it with which she could pick the lock. Sadly, the wires were either too small or thin, or made of rubber. None could have an impact on the heavy lock. Besides, Sydney realised it was rather futile. The door was thick oak and probably barred from the other side.
She then turned her attention to the large, old desk. Amongst the papers on the top, she didn't like what she found. They were several bills of sale for some extremely dodgy antique deals, in English and French, some of which had been made out in the name of Bellimo Brocante Ltd. She began to wonder if this house had ever belonged to the kindly, wronged old man she imagined at all.
Trying to open the drawers, she discovered that some of them were locked and some of them opened easily. Those which opened easily were filled with bottled water and tinned food. There was even a tin opener, an ominous sign that she was probably going to be left there for some time. The locked draws could not be opened with force, but she found that the wires which had had no impact on the sturdy door lock, could just about prize open these more feeble contraptions.
What she found inside instantly intrigued her. They were several large, A4 envelopes addressed to the house she was in, all to the name of Dr. Tadman. Could it be that the renowned academic was in on the plot after all? She was about to examine the contents of the packages when she heard the door upstairs open and heard voices, which seemed to be those of two men. She stuffed the envelopes in her bag, which fortunately she had been left with, and ran to the stairs in order to hear more. Could they be somebody who would let her out?
One of the voices clearly belonged to Wildey. Although she then knew that she was not going to be rescued, this did not dampen Sydney's hopes too much. She was immensely looking forward to crushing his oesophagus! She heard the other voice saying that he would be back shortly, and then Wildey saying sleazily that he wanted 'to say goodbye to his little vixen.'
'This is one little vixen with a nasty bite', thought Sydney.
She heard the front door close again as the other man left. Sure enough, moments later a key turned in the lock, and Wildey appeared in the doorway. This time he was obviously taking no risks, and he was armed with a gun. In the other hand he held a square, card shopping bag that looked like it came from an expensive boutique.
Sydney was just waiting for an opportunity to high-kick the gun from his hand and force from this crook everything he knew, in particular the whereabouts of Nigel. She suspected that the contents of the bag might just give her the chance she needed. Sydney Fox knew men, and she knew exactly what was on the mind of this creep.
'Ah, ma cherie!' said Wildey, the gun trained firmly on Sydney. 'I'm afraid I'm going to have to leave you here for a little while… I hope not forever, but if we have no use for you that may just be your sad fate. However, I have been thinking of other applications for you… and if you oblige me, you may find that it works in your favour.'
'And what would you like me to do?' inquired Sydney, coyly. Wildey was a little taken aback. He hadn't expected her to be so immediately cooperative. He was suspicious, but he was also curious about what she was willing to do. He had heard stories about Sydney Fox, and that she had made a lot of men happy who probably did not deserve it.
He tossed down his package to her at the bottom of the stairs. 'Put this on, my dear,' he instructed. After a pause he added, 'You may find that pleasing me may soften the treatment of your young assistant.'
Sydney, forgetting the temptress routine for a second, gave Wildey a look that could have killed. 'I thought you said that was out of your control.' Wildey shrugged. Sydney picked up the bag, all the same.
As could be predicted, it contained some expensive silk lingerie, made of red lace with black borders. 'May I change behind the desk, please?' asked Sydney, without emotion.
'If you would like,' came the reply. Wildey still had the gun pointed in her direction. Sydney knew she was going to have to try hard to get him to let his guard down, and quietly sighed. 'And so the show begins', she thought.
From behind the desk, Sydney let Wilde see every item of her own clothing as she took them off. She dangled each piece out from the edges of the desk on a seductive, slender limb, and then flung them across the floor with a provocative flick of a wrist. 'All we need now is some tacky, strip show music!' the professor mused to herself.
Once as fully clad in the underwear as it was possible to be - it fortunately also included a black silk thigh-length camisole - she emerged slowly from behind the desk.
'Is this obliging enough for you?' She walked towards him slowly, her long legs snaking around one in front of the other.
'Yes..yes.' His eyes were transfixed on her, and he was clearly excited.
She slunk towards him, slowly and enticingly, until she was just under a metre away and then she stopped. 'Any second now,' predicted Syd to herself.
It all happened quickly. Wildey took a small step forward and reached out his hand to touch her. Before he could lay a finger, Syd had kicked the gun from his hand. A moment later they were back where they were outside the British library, as she slammed her nemesis back against the wall, pinning his throat with her arm.
This move, however, was slightly too successful. The ancient wall was very rugged and uneven, and Wilde hit his head hard against protruding stone. Rather than begging for mercy, he flopped sideways, unconscious.
'Damn,' said Syd. She needed information more than anything. Still, she hoped he would come round soon, and then she would coerce him to tell her all she needed to know.
She stripped off the lingerie in a fraction of the time it had taken her to put it on, and used it to firmly tie his feet and wrists together. Gathering up her scattered clothes, she swiftly dressed herself and ran up the stairs, bolting the strong wooden door from the outside and turning the key in the lock.
It was then that the smell, which she had briefly noticed on her way into the house, struck her fully. She now recognised that horrific odour, and knew that it was not just mustiness. Along the corridor was another, more flimsy wooden door, outside which the stench was even stronger. It was locked, but the portal was flimsy compared to that which had
Thrusting herself into the room behind, Sydney nearly gagged at the stench. It took little time to her to identify the source. Slumped forward in a tatty, leather swivel chair was the body of a man with wild, grey hair. Covering her mouth with her sleeve, the professor ventured forward and pushed the cadaver gently back by the shoulder, so she could see his face. Although she had only once seen it before, briefly in an e-mail, she knew who it was instantly.
'Dr Tadman!' she gasped.
On a brief examination, she could see that he'd probably been dead for a couple of days. His face was a grayish, green colour and the body was quite stiff. The cause of death was not hard to identify. There had been a single gunshot to the heart.
Sydney was now momentarily torn about what to do next. She desperately needed to go for backup and contact Karen, but could she risk leaving the body, and Wildey in the basement, knowing that his gang could return and whisk all away.
This dilemma was not open to her for long. She heard the click of the front door, and footsteps and voices coming up the passage.
'Why couldn't he let us watch him have his fun?' she heard a deep, gruff voice say.
'Why couldn't you take just a little bit longer?' thought Sydney.
Her foot made contact with the jaw of the first henchman before he even knew what was hurtling at him. However, as she pounded the second man against the wall, three others ran in, two of whom had guns.
'Oh shit,' thought Sydney. She knew even she was outnumbered and out-armed.
Speed was her only chance. In a flash, she kicked the gun from one of the thug's hand, and dived for the front door. The other goon shot wildly, but missed. Landing as gracefully as a springing gazelle, Sydney sprinted from the courtyard and out into the relative safety of the city streets.
Sydney is free then! But what has been happening to Nigel? Please find out in the next chapter.