Emmy May Flowers

The newspapers would say it was an investment. A new rehabilitation scheme which would see ex-offenders released to the Isle of Eliza-Beth, where they would start an intensive programme, resulting in the guarantee of those men never offending again. They would be offered employment, accommodation and the chance to start their lives over.
But behind the smiling photograph of Mathias Walker the 42 year-old tycoon who was the mastermind behind the scheme, hides a much darker reality.


Chapter One: This little piggy went to the play park

The child cried as he dropped him off at the park, “remember what we said Charlie?”
The child looked at him through welled eyes and slowly nodded, “if I tell then mummy won’t get better” Charlie said, as he began to sob.
The man looked out of the windscreen to make sure no one was around, the last thing he needed was an interfering busy-body clocking him dropping a crying child off at the park and reporting him to the police. He turned back to look at Charlie and smiled.
“That’s right, if you tell anyone it will make mummy more ill and she will end up dying. We don’t want that” he threw a bag of gummy bears out of the vehicle, which landed at Charlie’s feet.
“See you again soon, Charlie boy” he said as he leaned over to close the passenger door before he drove off, leaving Charlie crying at the curb.

Charlie Harding was seven years old. He was slightly short for his age and had big blue eyes and striking, thick blonde hair which any man would be envious of. That’s what first attracted the man to him. He said that the first time Charlie had met the man and now it was a regular occurrence for the man to pick him up from school on a Friday and take him for ice cream. Well, that’s what his mother thought was happening. The man had been a close friend and colleague of Charlie’s father, before his father decided that he fancied a life in France with a twenty year-old called Shia-Rae. Now Charlie only heard from him on his birthday and at Christmas.

Charlie thought of Shai-Rae as he walked home. He often fantasised about getting her alone in a room and doing to her what the man did to him. It hurt and he knew it would hurt her too, but after he tried to set fire to her birthday card by putting it in the toaster, he would never be in the same room as her again. She wouldn’t allow him to visit, which was fine by him. He needed to look after his mother anyway.
“How was ice cream boo?” Charlie’s mother called from the upstairs bathroom. Charlie heard the echoing sound of her voice as it bounced off the hard wood flooring and the pale blue tiles. She must have needed to throw up again, Charlie thought as he took off his trainers and hung up his bag and coat.
“It was good”,  he replied, wanting her to know the truth but also knowing what the man had said about the truth being worse for his mothers condition.
“Did you have a flake for me?” she called, just before the sound of retching surrounded the hallway.
Charlie waited until she had stopped being sick before he answered her, “Yes I did. And I had chocolate sauce and a big cone!” Charlie hoped he sounded genuine and happy, he needed her to believe he had an amazing time, like he does every week.
His mother emerged at the top of the stairs, hand on her sweating brow and eyes slightly closed. She smiled and chuckled at him “Good lad, I’ll be down in a sec to make you some tea. Are you hungry? Or did the ice cream fill you all up?” Charlie watched as she slowly made her way down the stairs, stopping halfway to catch her breath.
“I’m ok, can I watch TV?” Charlie asked, before she was able to see the tears welling up in his eyes.
“Course you can, go on in and I’ll be through with some juice and biscuits in a bit” She replied, as she shuffled towards the kitchen, using the hallway wall as a support as she walked.
Charlie hated seeing her like this, he had even asked the man for money so he could make her better, but the man had told him that the only thing that would make her better was a trip to Switzerland. Charlie didn’t understand what he had meant and wondered if a holiday would really make his mum better. The man had just laughed at him before he began the assault ritual again.
“Here you go love,” she said as she put the glass of orange squash and a plate of chocolate fingers on the coffee table in front of Charlie. She sat on the sofa with a groan and began breathing heavily before bursting into a coughing fit. Charlie reached forward and pulled a handful of tissues out of the tissue box that was kept on the coffee table and handed them to his mother. She raised the handful of tissues to her mouth as she coughed and Charlie noticed the blood coming from her mouth was getting worse.
It had started as a couple of spots a few months ago, but it was becoming more and more, especially in the last few weeks.
The coughing stopped after a while and his mother’s breathing began to slow. Charlie passed her his glass of squash, which she took gratefully.
“Thank you love,” she wheezed, as she took sips of the orange and water mixture.
“I’m tired, can we go and cuddle in your bed?” Charlie asked, wanting more than anything to be wrapped in his mothers arms and feel safe from the world.
“Of course we can, sweetheart. Come on, bring your juice and we’ll go and have a snooze” his mother replied, giving him a glossy eyed smile. Charlie smiled back, picked up the glass of squash and followed his mother up the stairs.

***

The man pulled up outside the cluster of garages and got out of the van. He approached his garage when he felt a presence behind him.
“Are you Alfred Harmer?” The voice behind him said, taking him by surprise. Alfred stood up and turned to look at the man.
“Yes. Sorry, do I kno-” Alfred didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence before the man hit him on the side of the head with an extendable steel baton.
Alfred hit the ground, unconscious and bleeding from where the baton had connected with his scalp. The man cleared his throat, took a handkerchief from his jacket pocket and cleaned the baton, before pulling the mobile phone from his inside pocket.
“Target is unconscious. Standing by for removal” the man said as he ended the call.
A few seconds later, a black Mercedes Sprinter pulled up next to Alfred’s van. Two men, dressed head to toe in black suits exited the van and opened the back doors.
“Jesus Benjamin, was there any need to hit him that hard? We’re going to have to bandage the wound before we move him” one of the men said, as the other brought out a stretcher used by undertakers to transport the deceased.
“Well Ian, I can easily sit in a van if you want to do the heavy stuff” the man joked as he held his hands up in mock protest.
“Knock it off and hurry up, we don’t want to be raising any suspicions. If you hadn’t noticed, these garages are overlooked by a few houses”  Ian said, hurrying to wrap a length of bandage around Alfred’s head.
“Do we have the other stuff to knock him out?” the other man said, as he knelt down beside Ian to give him a hand with the bandage. Ian nodded and pointed to the black doctor’s bag that was attached to the stretcher. Ian hadn’t wanted an apprentice, he was happy just making a living as an undertaker and doing odd jobs like this on the side, but Mr Walker had insisted that Daniel tag along and learn the ropes.
“How’s little Danny boy getting on?” Benjamin asked, as he picked up the keys to Alfred’s van. The plan was to follow the black van to the lockup, where he would travel with Ian and Daniel back to base. The van would then be taken care of by the crew that remained on dry land.
“He’s doing grand, aren’t you Dan?” Daniel nodded as he removed a syringe from the doctor’s bag and passed it to Ian.
“Great. The boss will be happy. Now hurry up and get that into him. Don’t want to risk him waking up en route. And remember to cover him with the sheet when he’s on the stretcher, just to be on the safe side” Benjamin said, as he opened the door to Alfred’s van and hopped inside, “I’ll meet you at the lockup”
Daniel and Ian both nodded, half listening and half concentrating on their task at hand. The revving of the old white van filled the night air and Ian flinched, hoping that the noise hadn’t drawn any attention to them.
“Right, on three we lift him onto the stretcher. One… Two…Three”


***

It was dark and cold when Alfred Harmer roused from his forced slumber. He realised he was lying on a cold, hard surface and tried to move his legs, but his feet were bound together. The same with his hands. He took a deep breath and managed to push himself into the sitting position. The smell of damp and concrete filled his nostrils and the idea that he must be in one of the garages came to him. That was the last place he was, after all. But that didn’t explain why his hands and feet were bound together. He heard a sudden clang of metal on metal before a ray of light beamed into the room. It was then Alfred realized that he certainly was not in a garage.
“Good, you’re awake” a voice said as a torch was shone in his face. The voice had a European accent and was deeper than any voice Alfred had heard in a while. The man rattled what sounded like a set of keys, and Alfred watched as a padlock was taken off the door of where he was lying. The man opened the metal door of the dog cage he was lying in and grabbed the chain lead that Alfred realised was clipped to a collar around his neck.
“Come on mutt” the man said, giving the chain a yank and making Alfred fall forward on his hands and knees. In order for Alfred to get out of the cage, he had to crawl and hoped that when he stood up he would be informed of where he was and why he was there.
“On your knees, mutt” the man said, as another man kicked the back of Alfred’s knees. He fell onto the hard, concrete floor, grazing his knees in the process. “Now, move mutt” the man said, pulling on the chain lead once again and leading Alfred towards the door at the far end of the room.