Reaching home I took a short shower and a long hot bath. I just want to sleep.
It was a tiring day today.
When I reached work this morning, I was informed that we had a source with information leading to the capture of my next music record.
Francis Grant.
A business tycoon in contact with Ignacio Clemente. The leader of an underground drug traffic organization.
He laundered money made by Ignacio in exchange for immunity towards his business against the cops if they ever got a whiff of his extra curricular activities and against extortion.
Francis was a fat man. Nice big married man tummy.
We captured him on his way to work. At 9:30 sharp. Not a second later. Not a second before.
His body guards were easy to take out.
We had intercepted his car on his way to work. Taking out his body guards. It was like taking a candy from a baby.
We took him to head quarters and locked him in the basement. He was there for three hours before I attended to him.
When I walked in, his face was bright red with his veins popping.
I guess he was screaming not too long ago. Too bad I wasn't in here to hear it.
With his mouth having duct tape around it and him being tied to the chair he reminded me of a duck about to be butchered.
Atleast that's just my point of view.
Instead of standing directly infront of him as I'm sure he was expecting, I went behind him and put my hands on his shoulders.
"Francis Grant. A multi-millionaire. I wonder what it's like to be that rich. Must be fancy, isn't it?" At this point I was massaging his shoulders.
I was pretty sure my massage was doing the opposite effect of its job.
It was making him nervous.
Good.
"So Mr Grant, do you know why you're here?" at that question, there was inaudible mumbling behind the tape. "it's OK, we're not the cops. You can speak, you won't be arrested". There was more unintelligible mumbling. "Oh, right. The tape."
With that said, I removed the tape from his mouth in one swift motion.
His scream was music to my ears. Literally.
"You can answer now"
"I don't know what you're talking about. I don't know anyone." He was saying this with his head moving frantically from side to side. As if he was trying to convince himself more than me.
I patted his shoulder and walked to the wall behind me. There was an audible sigh of relief that came from his mouth. They obviously didn't let him get a full view of the room.
Walking to the table against the wall behind him, I put on a pair of thick leather gloves and took up one of my favorite torturing tools.
A roll of barbed wire with a little hammer. Straightening it out I turned towards him.
Walking back to him with slow deliberate steps, I stood directly behind him making sure I he couldn't he what was in my hands.
"Mr Grant, I'm not one for liking to repeat myself but based on the circumstances, I unfortunately have to." My voice was completely calm. I was completely calm.
Him on the other hand, not so much. His breathing was audible and his chest heaved heavily.
"Mr Grant, I'm waiting"
"I d-d-don't k-k-know"
"Christ, stop stuttering! It's not like I'm gonna kill you. At least not yet. I'm just asking a simple question which you know you have the simple answer to. Haven't you been doing some illegal activities Mr Grant?" At that question his breathing stopped all together. After a few seconds he started to breathe again.
"I-I-I d-d-don't k-know what you're t-talking about"
"Come on Francis, I'm not in the mood for games. I told you, we aren't the cops. So just be honest"
"The cops aren't suppose to know about it"
This guy was frustrating. Walking around until I was infront of him, I stooped down so he was now looking down on me.
"You haven't been listening to me. Maybe a visual would do you some good"
In one fluid move, I reached up with my barbed wire and hammer that came crashing down on his shoulder blade. It almost made me feel like I was crucifying him. Blood ran from the wound. As an immediate reaction, he let out a pitch that had me smiling.
"I must say Francis, you have a lovely voice" I got up and started walking to my previous position. "Like I said before Francis, we aren't cops" I placed my hands on his shoulders as I did before.
"Speak Francis, else that nailed in barbed wire won't be the only spot on your body with blood running. There's still plenty more barbed wire left on it." The irritation was seeping through my voice.
"I'm in the money laundering business, that's why I'm here"
"Good job Francis, you didn't stutter. And yes that's why you're here. Also, there is another reason. There is one person in particular that I'm interested in for which you launder money." My mouth was near his ear at this point.
"W-w-who is it?"
I guess we're back to square one.
"Ignacio Clemente". This was the second time that his breathing stopped.
"I d-don't know h-him" his head was moving from side to side.
I let out a sigh and wrapped the rest of the barbed wire around his torso. Ready to carry on with his torture if he refuses to cooperate.
"Did you know that when you are lying or you're nervous or you're scared you stutter, Francis?". There was no response. "So which is it Francis? Are you lying to me? Or is it you're scared? Nervous, perhaps? Tell me. The truth that is".
He made an audible gulp.
It seems like there was gonna be no response so I took matters into my own hands.
Before he could even comprehend, I already had my hammer striking a next point on the barbed wire. The one hammered was right on his spine. It must've hurt like hell because there it is again, my song. I hammered in three more into his body then pulled them out slowly. That had him crying out in pain and asking me to stop.
But would I?
"Mr Grant, I've been with you in this room for a long time. I cannot possibly understand why for the love of God, you would keep information from me. We're friends here. We tell each other everything. Isn't that what friends do?"
I was infront of him at this point. His eyes staring up at me.
"Do you know Ignacio Clemente?"
He shook his head. Wise choice. I knew he was lying, but didn't point out that fact.
Walking closer to him, I placed my hammer above an already wounded area between his shoulder blades and started to hammer the barbed wire back in. His scream was high and it made me smile. Moving from his shoulder, I hammered his knee. An audible crack was heard.
"Where is Ignacio?"
At this point he was mumbling incoherently. I foolishly placed my ear at his mouth and that's when he bit me.
Walking out of the shower, I put my white bathrobe on and wrapped a towel around my hair, turned on the lights in the room avoiding the king sized bed with white linens and went straight to the mirror.
Looking at my right ear which he had bitten, I could clearly see the indentation of two of his incisors.
The skin around it was a vigorous red.
Touching it, I felt the pain that would be there for the next day or two.
Releasing a sigh, I went to my closet and changed into my pyjamas.
A satin shorts set with lace trimmings.
I went to my bed. Without a care in the world, I tucked myself in and went straight to sleep.
Tomorrow we'll deal with the body.