Page 27 of Little Children (Detective Kim Stone #22)

Twenty-Six

NOAH

The light through the small dirty window was Noah’s only indication of passing time.

He thought he’d spent one night sleeping after being given the funny water to drink, but his perception of time was distorted.

Then, yesterday, the man called Mister had returned twice, and then darkness had fallen.

He thought it might now be Tuesday, but there was no way of knowing for sure.

He didn’t know how long he’d slept, and more nights might have passed without him knowing.

On the first visit of the day, the man had said his name was Mister.

He had said nothing more while emptying the bucket.

Noah had shrunk into the corner, wondering if he was going to be examined as he had been the night before.

He had shivered with fear as Mister had squeezed and touched his arms, turned him around and pinched his thighs and his calves.

Just when he’d thought his bladder might betray him, Mister had loosened his grasp and moved away.

He’d removed the pack of biscuits and left fresh water and a donut with a stern instruction to eat. Noah had tried a mouthful but had vomited it back up within seconds.

He didn’t know how many hours passed between the first and second visit, but when Mister had returned, he’d brought more water and two tablets.

Noah had swallowed the tablets while Mister stood over him before checking his mouth.

Satisfied the tablets had been swallowed, he’d left the room again.

Minutes later, he’d returned with a plastic container on a plate.

Steam had risen from what had smelled like some kind of tomato-and-pasta dish.

‘Eat up or I’ll force it down you,’ Mister had said before closing the door behind himself.

Noah had ignored the dish for a few minutes, but the smell of hot food permeating the tiny room had travelled from his nostrils right down into his stomach.

He’d taken a closer look at what appeared to be spaghetti bolognaise, then lifted the plastic fork and taken a bite.

He’d smoothed over the gap that had been left, not wanting to give Mister the satisfaction of him doing what he was told.

Then he’d looked at the gloopy mess and thought he could probably take another forkful and smooth it back over to make it look untouched.

Four forkfuls later he’d realised that he could no longer hide his appetite and resolved to finish it all but to hang on to the fork. If he had more strength and a weapon, maybe he could escape the next time Mister came in the room.

He’d pushed the plate aside and waited, expecting that the tablets he’d swallowed would make him sleepy. But the drowsiness hadn’t come.

He was still wide awake when the door opened for a third time. The window told him it was night-time, and he hadn’t expected to see Mister again.

The man nodded approvingly at the plate and picked it up. He held out his hand. ‘Fork.’

Noah took the piece of plastic from his pocket and handed it over, trying to still the trembling of his hand.

‘Stand up, Noah,’ Mister said from behind his mask.

Noah could see that a piece of cloth hung from his pocket.

‘Strip to your underpants,’ Mister said calmly.

‘Wh…what?’ Noah asked, feeling a fresh tidal wave of fear.

‘Take everything off except your underpants or I’ll do it for you.’

The voice was neither kind nor unkind. Just firm.

Noah hesitated.

‘I’ll give you to the count of five.’

Noah removed his fleece and his tee shirt. The cold circled his bare skin.

He shivered as he pulled his jeans down to his ankles and stepped out of them. He linked his hands together and held them in front of his body. Despite the underpants, he felt completely naked and terrified of whatever was to come next.

‘Good boy,’ Mister said as he took the blindfold from his pocket and slipped it over Noah’s eyes.