The case of the missing model Episode 4
By the Masked Writer
It was pretty hard for me and Catherine Johnson to get up the morning after our battle at “The Pit”. I was sore everywhere but she could hardly move, at first. I managed to whip up a breakfast for two with what I found in the fridge, and then we started talking about what to do next to find Kate, Mrs Johnson’s daughter.
We had learned something the night before. When she was last seen at “The Pit”, Kate hung out with members of the “Church of Happiness”. The said church had a house near the harbour, which we could certainly find via the Internet. Those cults always have web sites or web pages, Facebook account, etc. And two girls from the said cult, used to hang out at “The Pit”. First we would have to visit the house near the harbour and, if that did not work, try our chance with those two girls at “The pit”.
Then I tried to dissuade Mrs Johnson to come with me. It was no use. I finally thought that I was better have her with me so that we could watch each other’s back than having her following me in secret and risking to blow out whatever I would try to do.
So we spent the day searching the web to find every information we could find about that “Church of Happiness” cult.
They learned that the cult was lead by a guy known as “Réal” or simply “The Master”, and his wife known simply as “The Mistress”. Once you got through the religious mumbo jumbo you could see that the religion of the sect boiled down to : “follow and obey the master !” He is an obese man always dressed in white robes and wearing sunglasses. She seems to be in her fifties or sixties, with a mass of reddish hair, probably a whig always wearing the garment of a dominatrix : black leather corset, long gloves and high-heeled boots. That looked weird.
The ”house” by the harbour existed but it was a revamped old warehouse pompously baptized “The Sanctum”.
They also found information written by journalists and ex-adepts. The cult was frequently suspected of abusing its faithfuls. There were talks of torture, forced labour sexual abuse and organized fights between the fidels for “discipline” purposes.
-Could my little girl be captive in such an organization ? asked Mrs Johnson, terrified, with tears in her eyes.
I clamed her down as good as I could and, as a day had passed, we decided to wait for the next day. So she took a cab and went home.
That also gave us another much needed 36 hours to recover from our various bruises, abrasions, sores and general exhaustion.
So at the end of the next day, I took my car, picked my client at here beautiful home in a rich suburb, and drove to the harbour. We left the car a few blocks for the Church of Happiness “Sanctum” as it was called. We were dressed comfortably in pants, shirt jacket and sport shoes (no high heels : we may have to run)
Te place was big, painted all over with religious pictures in bright colors. What did not look so cheerful however was the fact that all windows were closed with opaque shutters.
And the only door was of iron, looking like a prison door. But there was a doorbell, so I rang.
And I rang.
And I rang again.
Eventually, somebody came. I was sure somebody would.
I could see a surveillance camera over the door, so somebody must have been knowing there.
So a woman eventually opened the door.
She was about my size, a little bit fatter and about 40, with grizzled red hair.
-Welcome to the Church of Happiness, what can I do for you ? She said on a tone that meant we were not welcome and she wouldn’t do much for us.
I used my most beautiful and charming smile to say :
-We are looking for a young woman which could be a new church faithful, her name is Kate Johnson... and I took a picture of Kate from my purse.
-Don’t know her ! Sorry ! said the woman without looking at the picture and just before shutting the door.
Now that pissed me off a bit. I looked at Catherine and told her :
-Well, if we can’t do it one way, let’s try another way.
So we started walking. We started to walk around the huge property to see if there was another entrance, or even somewhere we could just peek. Finally, we got to a point, in an alley, where there was a brick wall, about 8 feet-high, that obviously was at a certain distance from the building itself. Probably a courtyard of some sort.
Si I decided to climb that wall and have a look.
I suggested to Catherine to join her hands in a "stirrup" so that she could climb on her shoulders and take a look at what was beyond this wall.
So she did. I put both hands on his shoulders, one foot in the stirrup formed by his hands, and I hoisted myself high enough to put my hands on the top of the wall, quickly because my 130 pounds quickly were a bit too too much for her 123 pounds spread over a 5p 9 in. frame.
So I took a leap and step over the wall, sitting astride it. I heard a sigh of relief when my feet left her hand. I felt it would have been easier for me to lift her but I did not trust her climbing talent.
What I saw was sort of a vast courtyard with some gym instruments, a basketball hoop, a boxing ring. There was nobody in sight but it reminded me more of a prison yard than of any kind of religious place.
As I was describing what I saw to Catherine, I noticed that, here too, there was a surveillance camera. And suddenly I realised it was pointing straight at me.
And then I heard Catherine saying :
-People coming !
-Oh shit ! That’s what I thought as I looked down and saw three persons coming from both ends of the alley. On one side, a girl. Tall and slender, in her twenties with long blond hairs. On the other side, there was a couple. A red-headed girl in her thirties and a handsome six-foot guy. Sheila and Jack. *
-Double shit !
As quickly as I dared without breaking my neck, I climbed down from the wall while ordering to Catherine :
-Run!
She did. Strategically, she ran in the direction of the harbour, where there was only one opponent, the tall blonde. Catherine tried to bypass her but the young, obviously fit, blonde, was more agile and quicker. She girdled Catherine to try immobilizing her.
Then I stopped looking ‘cause I had my own problem. At first I thought that, without my disguise of the night at “The Pit”, the couple would not recognize me. No such luck. I could see it on their face. First the surprise, then a rather ferocious grin.
I’m gonna get it ! I thought.
Well I was not going down without a fight. So I ran and tried to sway between the two.
I dodged the guy’s long arms and ran towards Sheila but -no doubt she remember how I could beat her- she ran from me. Then I heard Catherine scream. I stopped and took a glance : her younger anniversary had her immobilized with a chicken wing. The older lady tried to kick her in the shin but she was clumsy and could do no real damage.
That second of distraction was fatal for me. I felt Jack's arms wrap around me from behind, immobilizing my arms. Then Sheila walked towards me, clenching her fists.
Martial arts training doesn’t make miracles. Doesn’t mean it’s useless. I managed to grab Jack’s little finger and bend it backward. He screamed and release his grip slightly, which allowed me to send him a mule kick in the balls. He made a muffled sound and I could feel him falling on his knees. I could see Sheila’s face turn pale just before I punched her in the jaw, making her stagger. Then I pivoted and send her a side kick right in the bally. She fell back with a hoof ! She sprawled out full length before folding up like a pretzel, clutching her stomach, wincing in pain.
The I looked at what was happening to my partner. Her blonde opponent had her lying on the ground, face down, still holding that chicken wing. I rushed towards her and stroke the girl with the edge of my hand, right on the neck. She fell aside and I began to help Catherine get up. The I felt to powerful hands grabbing me from behind and pushing me aside. I turned may face to this new opponent.
Oh shit again. Jack was back on his feet, red-faced and obviously angry.
I just had time to see his fist coming and I felt my head explode.
…
Next thing I knew, I was tied up. Legs and arms bounded together behind my back. The smell of gas, the noise of an engine, and the brutal pitch and rolls told me I was in the back of a truck going somewhere. There were windows through which some light came in but I could not raise high enough to see the surroundings. I looked around and I saw Catherine in the same predicament I was. Bounded. I asked her if she knew where we were going.
-No! she said. After that man knocked you out, he did the same to me. So I woke up here. I could see she had a bruise on her right cheek that was growing and turning deep blue.
Now, I had to admit. Our situation did not look good.
To be continued
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*See episode 3
