Chapter 5

Biderman's chart of coercion – Stage 5 - Induce Debility and Exhaustion

Once again, Ken had been pulled to his feet and hauled through the yard and into the house. But now, through pain and weariness his legs refused to work for him, and the two men dragged him, his toes leaving shallow furrows in the dirt of the yard. He was tired, hurting more than he could ever remember and still scared witless of what they were going to do next.

The two men bound him to the same chair again and left him in the semi darkness of the room.

Ken was exhausted. His head hung down until his chin rested on his chest, eyes half closed. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to move, it hurt to think. But thinking wasn't something he particularly wanted to do. Thinking brought about more panic as his fevered imagination called up pictures of even more tortures this group could inflict on him before they killed him. And Ken was sure that he would wind up dead because he knew his Dad too well. The more you pushed at the great Dr Hutchinson, the more the doctor would dig in his heels and refuse to budge. In a rare moment of friendship, his Dad had once told him that his nickname at college had been Mule for that very reason. He was as ornery as a mule and the young blond knew that more ransom notes would only serve to harden his Dad's resolve not to pay.

Ken could never remember feeling so alone, so afraid or so abandoned. When the young girl had come to take care of him in the byre, he'd been so pitifully grateful to her that he'd wanted to kiss her, tell her how beautiful he thought she was and how he wished he could buy her the world. When she'd been ordered to leave, he'd felt her absence keenly, even though he'd only exchanged a few words with her and now he longed to see her friendly, pretty face again. Because it represented someone who may just care for him.

The bound man flinched suddenly as he heard the door behind him open. Should he feign sleep or unconsciousness? Why bother? It would only put off the inevitable.

OK Ken, just stare 'em out and let 'em do their worst.

'We meet again' the girl said.

'Pleasure's…..all yours' Ken answered. It hurt to talk and he didn't want to waste his energy on small talk.

'We're gonna try a different tack today. You're gonna be ringing your Dad to ask for the money'.

The blond snorted, setting off a hacking cough that's sent his splintered rib jabbing at his chest. When he stopped and regained his breath he forced his head up to stare at her.

'Didn't do….your…homework' he gasped. 'Won't listen t'me….Never pay'.

The woman put her finger under Ken's chin and lifted his head. He winced and tried to flinch away. 'Not even when his son's life is on the line?'

'Not even'. He managed a small grin, the splits on his lips reopening.

She let his head go. 'We'll see. It'd be such a pity to waste you'.

'Listen….know who you are. I…hate 'xperiments too. Can't s stop him….He's…'

'He's your Father! And you say he won't pay? What sort of Father would let his son die just so as to keep his principles in tact?' She asked angrily.

'Mine'. The answer took the woman aback and she saw the sad expression on the young blond's face. She took a step back and for one brief moment wondered whether they'd done the right thing in kidnapping the young man. But then she thought of all the animals that Dr Hutchinson had used over the years and her heart hardened.

'Seems like you're in for a rough ride then' she muttered. 'Are you gonna play ball or do we have to get rough again?'

'Do….what ya…want'. Ken was almost past caring now. At least if they beat him up some more he might finally loose consciousness and that would ease his pains for a while. He had no idea how much longer he could go on anyway. His only hope was that that cop – what was his name? Nott…Nitt…Netter would be able to work some magic and find him.

The woman nodded to the men standing at the back of the room. 'Bring the phone'.

Moments later the room was set up and the woman stood in front of the bound blond with a piece of paper. She held it up for Ken to read through. 'Are you going to co-operate? All we need you to do is to read this into the telephone. We'll do the rest'.

The young man started at the white paper. It seemed to swim before his eyes, which were blurry and tired. He screwed them up and tried to shake his head, but that hurt too much. He stopped and tried to focus on the print on the page.

'Never work' he mumbled, his chin falling to his chest again.

'You mean you won't read it, or the message won't get through to your old man?'

Ken's face split into a painful grin. 'Both' he rasped.

The man at his back knelt by the side of the chair and took a hold of the index finger on Hutch's left hand. The woman stared impassively back at him.

'Do you enjoy pain?' she asked as she dialed a number and waited.

oOo

Dr Hutchinson jumped as the telephone by his right elbow rang. He cursed quietly and composed himself before glancing at his watch. 12:07. exactly 24 hours since he'd received the second ransom note. They were punctual if nothing else. And now they'd resorted to making telephone calls. He looked levelly at the cop sitting across the table from him.

'Answer it. Be calm, try not to piss 'em off. Make careful notes about their demands and demand to speak to your son. We need to make sure he's still alive'.

'You mean they might have…'

'We don't know. The only way to find out is to talk to him. You ok with this?'

Dr Hutchinson nodded and reached for the telephone but was stopped by a strong hand over his. Netter's eyes drilled into him. 'This is your son's life we're dealing with. Don't make them angry huh?'

Hutchinson senior whipped his hand away and grasped the receiver. He took a deep breath.

'Dr Hutchinson' he announced into the phone and listened to the reply as Netter listened in on the extension.

'Dr Hutchinson, you don't know us, but we have your son. You got our notes I take it?' the female voice sounded sure and steady.

'Yes'.

'We expect you to meet us in one hour outside the A Charles Weiss Inn on East Superior Street. Bring the money or else Kenny dies'.

The doctor winced. 'I need to speak to him. I want to speak to Kenneth now' he said as calmly as he could.

'Why? Don't you believe us Doctor?' the woman asked icily.

'Would you trust someone who blackmailed you?' Richard Hutchinson asked coldly. 'Let me speak to him now, so that I know he's ok. After that we can discuss the money'.

There was a small pause and the sounds of muttering before he heard the phone receiver brushing against something. And then an indistinct and rasping voice sounded over the phone.

'Dad?'

'Kenneth, is that you?'

'D don't give 'em the mo……arrrrrrgh' Ken's words were cut off by an agonised shriek which shook his father to the core and had Netter's brows knit in horror.

'Just a small warning Dr. Next time, it'll be his neck we break. The money, East Superior. One hour' and the phone went dead.

The older man put the phone carefully back on the cradle, his face once more composed. Years of working on complex and nerve wracking operations had steadied his nerves so that ice water rather than blood flowed through his veins at times like this. He stared at the cop. 'What now?'

'Well at least we know he's alive. The next move is yours. Are you gonna get the money. You have a little less than an hour'.

'I don't know how many times I have to say this, Detective. I do now give in to blackmail. It sends out all the wrong messages. I know you think I'm being harsh, but on this I stand firm. No money will change hands. You know where they want to meet. Aren't you going to stake it out, or whatever you call it?'

Netter sighed and ran a hand over his face. He understood where Hutchinson was coming from. He would never advocate paying a blackmailer either, but this was a boy's life they were playing fast and loose with. Not some unknown boy. Hutchinson's son, for Gods' sake. Didn't the man have any feelings at all?

'OK, so you don't want to get the money. Maybe a bag that looks like it has money in then? If you go and wait where they say, I'll have a better chance of eyeballing whoever is behind this'.

But the doctor was shaking his head. 'It's 12:10. I have surgery scheduled in 90 minutes and my patient the Senator will not take kindly to having it delayed. In fact he'll die if I don't operate. You have the meeting place. You're the police. This is your field of expertise. Find the bastards, lock them up and bring my son back'. With that, the big man stood behind the desk and held out his hand to shake Netter's, effectively dismissing the cop.

Netter stood, turned on his heel and walked out of the room, unable to bring himself to share any more "pleasantries". As he headed for the front door, it burst open and a tall, slim young woman with long dark brown hair burst in. She had a pleasant, almost beautiful face and large green eyes that reminded him of a cat's eyes. They had the same piercing quality to them although right now, they ignored him as she ran headlong into the doctor's office.

'Mr Hutchinson, I've just heard about Ken. Is he alright? Is he hurt? Where is he? Who has him?' Vanessa asked in a rush.

Netter closed the door behind him as he heard Hutchinson Senior start to explain what was going on. Maybe the young woman might be able to bring the old fool to his senses.

He headed back to his car and radioed in his progress, or lack of it. Hank was pretty sure that the folks who had Ken wouldn't show themselves until they saw the Dr waiting with the bag full of money by the hotel. He'd go there, and he'd watch and wait, but he didn't hold out much hope of getting any closer to an identification. Idly he toyed with the idea of trying to get someone who looked even vaguely like the Doctor to pose outside, but looking at his watch he realised he had barely enough time to get to the Lakeside himself, without being able to organize doppelgangers too.

Wearily he put the stick into drive and set off, the last scream he heard on the phone ringing in his ears. God, what that boy must be going through! His blood ran cold as he thought about other bodies of other victims that he hadn't been able to save over the years. None of them were very pretty when they'd been found, if indeed they had. But he suspected that a good few bodies still lay, weighted down with lumps of concrete at the bottom of the lake. Whether they had been alive or dead when they were thrown into their watery grave was anyone's guess.

oOo

Back at PACE headquarters, the woman grabbed a handful of sweat soaked golden hair and pulled Ken's head back. His eyes fluttered, but remained closed and a low, almost animal groan escaped from his throat. The broken index finger stood out at an obscene angle and was already turning black from tip to way past the wrist.

Letting the golden head fall back she grinned.

'Take him back and secure him. We don't want to take any chances. I think the good doctor has had enough time. Get down to East Superior and bring the money back. After that, he can have his precious little bundle back and we're out of here'.