Free Duplicity by Ian Woodhead Page B

shrieks that exploded from the drain caused Joanie to stumble into Tessa. That was no animal, the noises sounded almost human. She looked at Emma, expected to see a triumphant smug grin plastered across her face. The girl looked as shocked as she must have looked. “No way,” she muttered. “The drain’s just too small.” Joanie crawled back towards the open drain and peered down.
    “Can you see anything?” Emma asked.
    Joanie leaned over and saw a pair of tiny brown eyes of glaring back at her. The figure moved into the light and Joanie screamed at the sight of a miniature version of Henry Collins.
     
     
    Chapter Ten
     
    No amount of self-control could stop his jaw stretching as Albert’s yawn popped his ears and almost dislocated his mouth muscles. This new level of tiredness was new, even to him. Just the task of blinking seemed to be too much of an effort.
    That woman, his lost treasure , had drained every dreg of vigour from his exhausted body. Not that he’d complained at the time, hell no! God she’d become insatiable, if the power from her sex-drive could be harnessed, she’d be able to light up whole cities. Was she really a woman though? That unwanted thought had recently taken up residence in his thoughts like wool caught on barbed wire, no matter what he tried, the image just wouldn’t shift.
    Despite the blood, gore and abattoir stench, Albert had still succumbed to her overwhelming demands and fucked her senseless. In the back of his mind, he knew that to refuse her advances would have been pointless anyway. As they rolled about in the crimson mess, coating their naked bodies in warm blood, Albert’s, self-disgust faded watching the woman force his penis deeper inside her. When she cried out in ecstasy, it only helped to inflame his desire and passion.
    After what seemed like hours, Albert had been able to prise the woman from his exhausted body, made her sit in a corner while he cleaned up the mess.
    Looking back, he shouldn’t have been too surprised by her actions. Death was the greatest aphrodisiac of them all. He’d seen that many times from back when he was in the army. Back during the ‘troubles’ in Northern Ireland, He’s witnessed many a gunfight and the relief of actually not dying had caused his testosterone levels to rocket.
    Albert pushed the images of what she’d one to Eileen to the back of his head. The longer he dwelt on her actions, the more he became convinced that his lost treasure was not entirely human.
    There was definitely something not quite right about her. Ha! Like that was the underestimation of the century, like killing a patient and eating most of the body was perfectly acceptable. If the girl wasn’t right in the head and she couldn’t control her actions then what did that make him?
    No judge or jury would accept a plea of abnormally high hormone levels and being a slave to his cock. The worse the authorities would be able to get him with was cleaning up after a murder. Even such an act like that was well within his morally ambiguous code of honour. It wasn’t too late to back out.
    Albert stretched and peered over the edge of the door, spying on his intended target. He realised that backing out just wasn’t possible. Albert wanted the old bastard to die as well. In fact, he intended to watch his lost treasure to rip old nasty Frankie to bits and just before the light faded from the bastards eye, Albert was going to spit in his face.
    Revenge is a dish best served cold. He chuckled at the thought of him serving up Frankie’s severed head to his lost treasure .
    The old man sat opposite Frankie swore. Albert surmised that the daft old sod had lost yet again. Frankie’s gnarled hand shot across the table and snatched the man’s last packet of cigarettes from off the coffee table.
    Albert wondered where the shift nurses were hiding, they’d been told on countless occasions not to allow Frankie to swindle money and valuables from any of the other