Deadly Silence (complete) Chapter 58

The car swung into the parking garage and Samuel was out the door before it came to a full stop.

A quick look around told him what had happened. There was a scuffed trail of blood leading to the elevator where a smudged handprint was clearly visible; he’d bet anything there was more inside the lift as an extra measure, so the people tailing them would think they took it to one of the upper floors.

To the right of the entrance was a door that led to a control room for the garage, including the gates, lights and everything else needed to keep the place running. It was open and looked like the deadbolt had been destroyed; that had to be where they’d hid. With the layout of the area, when their tail entered they would have seen the car parked — there was a scrap of paint at the front of a parking spot along with skid marks that had to be from Vivian braking too fast — then the elevator with the blood. Chances were good they wouldn’t pay attention to a broken deadbolt when it was behind them and in a bit of a shadow.

It spoke of how little training they’d been given before taking on the job. That made things easier.

Another car pulled in and four men exited the vehicle as Samuel strolled over to the control room, pushing the door all the way open with his foot. “Find whoever’s stupid enough to go after my daughter,” he ordered them without so much as a glance over his shoulder, “and bring them back here to be dealt with.”

“Yes, sir,” they said in unison before doing as they were told.

Samuel entered the small room and, after looking over the controls he flipped a single switch. Outside there was a faint whirring noise as the gate lowered over the entrance, sealing the area as it settled into place. They wouldn’t be bothered now.

His phone buzzed and he pulled it out, opening the message.

\[We have the food\], Sebastian had texted, careful not to give specifics. Cellphones could be searched, broken into and were the fall of many in his profession. Food meant the surveillance feeds from any and all cameras that had caught Vivian driving in the city and what had taken place in the parking garage itself.

\[Enough to share with your old man?\] Samuel replied before pocketing the phone and stepping out of the control room.

The sound of shots rang somewhere above where he waited, but he wasn’t bothered. Samuel slowly removed his suit jacket, placing it on the roof of the car he’d arrived in before fixing his cuffs as he waited for his men to return.

One by one they came back, each bringing a captive with them except the final two who dragged a single man between them.

Four people. Four people had gone after his daughter. Unbuttoning the cuff he’d only just fixed a few minutes prior, Samuel began to slowly roll up his sleeve. “Let’s get started, shall we?” He spoked as he began rolling up the second sleeve. “Who are you working for?”

“Fuck you,” the biggest of the group spat. Samuel gave the man holding him a look and suddenly the thug was on the ground, a gash across his cheek and ear.

“Let me make something very clear,” Samuel began, finally finishing his task and slipping his hands into his pockets. “You will die today — all of you. *How* you die is up to you. You tell me what I want to know and it’ll be quick; otherwise I plan on making you suffer for as long as I can before your body gives out. You have five seconds to make up your mind. First person to talk wins.”

——

It’d taken longer than he’d wanted to get any information from the hired thugs. After all that work he’d only gotten was a single name: The Curator.

That didn’t bode well.

The Curator was an urban legend among those Samuel worked with. The Curator was supposedly someone with ties to no-one and did what he pleased, how he pleased, without regard for anyone or anything. There was no rhyme or reason to his actions which was how he’d stayed a mystery for twenty-five years and counting. Once something caught The Curator’s eye nothing and no-one could stop him from getting it.

When he’d first surfaced Samuel hadn’t been part of the underworld, he hadn’t lost Annie and fallen to darkness. After her disappearance he’d only heard stories about The Curator, who seemed to have vanished by that time.

There were rumours The Curator had been put in jail on unrelated charges and that’s why he’d gone silent, while others speculated he’d died or moved away. If he was back and sending people after Vivian, did that mean there was a connection between the two or had Samuel done something to anger The Curator? Was that why his daughter had been targeted? Or did The Curator want his daughter? Perhaps to use as ransom for whatever he truly wanted?

With too much to think about, Samuel absently cleaned himself up after finishing at the parking garage. He instructed his men to leave no trace for the police to find before leaving. The only thing that would settle him now was seeing his daughter, verifying in person she was unharmed.

The drive home felt like it took an eternity even though traffic was light considering the time of day. When he finally pulled up to the house, Samuel stopped the car and sat in it for a full minute, wrangling his emotions so he wouldn’t overwhelm his daughter. Vivian must be in shock from the incident, scared and confused. She’d sounded so small on the phone.

Emotions in check, Samuel exited his car and stepped inside. Mr Morris had been injured, which meant a doctor would have been called and they’d be tending to him in the infirmary.

Going to a hospital with the injuries he and his people acquired in their profession was asking for questions, which was why Samuel had built infirmaries, small sterile rooms to tend to those types of injuries, in a number of different buildings he owned. He also employed a couple doctors and nurses who had… questionable backgrounds, who couldn’t find respectable work due to circumstances from their past.

Of course he had failsafes in place should these medical professionals try anything with his people, but in the nearly twenty years they’d been on his payroll there hadn’t been a single issue.

“Dad.”

Samuel stopped and turned to see his middle son coming to greet him. “Gabriel.”

“Bass filled me in, but…”

“…but?” Something in Gabriel’s expression didn’t fit with the current situation but Samuel couldn’t figure out what was making him feel so uneasy. “What is it, Gabriel? Spit it out.”

“Come see for yourself.”