Ch 6 Framed
Farnell paused in the entryway, and glanced around before heading toward the den.
"I'm guessing there's a safe in this house. Most safe's are in people's bedrooms," he paused, "did you know that?" he asked McCormick.
Mark didn't answer. He stood in the center of the room, hands cuffed behind his back, a henchman on either side, feeling disgusted that Farnell was standing inside the judge's home… his home. He was also thinking desperately of how he could leave a message for the judge.
"But I'm guessing that a guy like Hardcastle would have a safe here, in his den. His lair so to speak." He motioned to Horace, who had just entered, "find the safe."
The energy that Horace applied to that task amazed McCormick. Clearly, he was trying to make up for allowing McCormick to get the better of him before. As he flung everything off the walls and threw it into a heap on the desk, he eventually came across the picture that could not be moved. A closer inspection revealed the safe behind it. Two minutes later, the safe was open and several envelopes were removed.
Farnell chuckled as he removed several large bills from one of the envelopes.
"Horace, keep the gloves on and bring me the tools Mr. McCormick was using on that bush," Farnell directed.
Mark watched him leave, a sinking feeling in his gut.
"He won't believe I did it," he bluffed.
"I think he will, what with you disappearing and all." Farnell answered in a conversational tone as he motioned to one of the goons.
"Joel? You do the honors. Now, where's Hardcastle?" Farnell asked again.
When he didn't answer, Joel began the beating. An explosion of pain, this time in his back, and with something harder than a fist. Mark's knees buckled as a wave of dizziness fell over him. Angered about his victim's collapse, Joel hit him again in the back, and the side.
"What's wrong with him, hold him up damn it, we need information from him," Farnell ordered.
They pulled him upright, and the rush in his ears increased as he went limp.
ooOoo
Mark slowly became aware that his face was on floor. He could hear sounds around him before his eyes were open.
"That's it. Horace, you're gonna wait for Hardcastle. When he slows down to turn in at the gate, that's when you get him. I don't care how long you have to wait, you hear?"
"Yes boss, I'll get it done."
"Get out there now," and Mark could hear the man slam the door behind him.
Mark lifted his head and turned to look at Farnell. The judge would be picked off as he turned into the driveway. At least there was another 24 hours or so until that would happen. And Mark would do everything he could to make sure it didn't.
"Well, well, the prince is awake. Where's Hardcastle Mr. Benchley?" Farnell asked in a fake friendly tone.
"Water," Mark whispered hoarsely.
There was silence as Farnell considered the request.
"Give him some," he finally ordered one of his goons. "I want you awake enough to understand what I just finished."
Mark was jerked up into a sitting position, and a glass of water tipped roughly so he could drink.
It was what he needed. Now he could concentrate on finding a way out of this mess.
"So what did you just finish?" he finally asked.
"The tools, with your prints on them are going to stay right here. No one will doubt that you got fed up with this set up as Hardcastle's stooge. He had $1,200 in the safe, just a bonus for me."
"If he gets past Horace, he'll find out that you stole it and cut out. If he doesn't get past Horace, well, then his friends will know what you really are… or were," he chuckled.
"Come on boys, let's get back to the Gatehouse and pack a suitcase for our Mr. Benchley. I want everyone to think he really took off."