Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #1: Books 1-4 (A Dead Cold Box Set) by Blake Banner (best thriller books to read .txt) 📕

pounds, and he made the chair rock. By the second blow, I was disoriented and wondering how I was going to get through another four. He made it easy for me by delivering three of them to my chest, so I felt like I had a rusty saw stuck through my lungs. The last was a backhander that left the room spinning and my ears ringing.

Through the pain, I heard dos Santos’s voice.

“Now, let us at least dispense with the vulgarities, Stone. Perhaps I had better apprise you of the situation. Your wire has been removed. Detective Dehan has received a text message instructing her to stand down and await further instructions from you. So nobody is going to come charging to your rescue. You have one chance of survival and one only. Tell me where the box is, and where Tammy is.”

I knew I had to think. Somehow I had to get my brain working, but Ronaldo’s beating had left me groping for consciousness. I played for time, exaggerating my grogginess. I didn’t have to try very hard.

“You’re out of your fucking mind. You think I am stupid enough to make it this easy for you?”

“Frankly? I do, yes. I don’t want to resort to mutilation, Stone, but if you try my patience, Ronaldo here is pretty handy with a pair of pliers. Don’t push your luck. If I don’t have an answer in the next ten minutes, one of you starts losing digits, or some other parts of the anatomy which may be more persuasive.”

I looked up at Ronaldo’s passive face. It held the kind of peace only stupidity can bring. I looked past him at Geronimo. He was smiling. I knew I had to turn the situation around pretty soon, or I was going to be in big trouble.

“I don’t know where Tamara is, but you and I both know, dos Santos, that if I give you the box, I will be dead within seconds. Now you must be aware that I am too smart and too experienced to put myself in that situation.”

He looked complacent. “I just don’t think you have had enough time to do anything other than put it somewhere safe.” He gave a small laugh. “In fact, I am not even totally convinced that Emma has given it to you.”

“I’ll tell you where it is, dos Santos. It’s in a drawer, in a desk at the 43rd Precinct. Not my desk—the desk of a uniform sergeant who has instructions to put it in the mail if she doesn’t hear from me by midnight tonight. Now you can torture an address out of me, but how will you ever know if I have given you the right address?”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Maybe I am, Geronimo. But again, how will you ever know?”

He struggled to his feet. “Come on, Ronaldo. Let us go and talk to Emma for a while, and see if she can be more cooperative.”

They closed the door, and I heard their big feet lumbering down the stairs. They would question Emma to see if she confirmed or denied what I had told them. So far, I was on safe ground. But I wouldn’t be able to keep the game going indefinitely. And I could not rely on Dehan realizing the messages were not from me. At least not for several hours.

Duct tape is a very useful, easy way of immobilizing somebody. It only has one drawback. Rope, especially nylon rope, is hard to cut through. With duct tape, all you need to do is nick it in the right place and it tears right in half. I peered around the room, looking for something with a sharp angle. There was nothing immediately apparent. Then I became aware that just behind me there was a bed. I started rocking the chair from side to side and angling my body so that the chair shifted. Soon I could see, over my shoulder, exactly what I had hoped for. A bedside table with a lamp on it. It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.

I did a little more angling, rocked a couple of times, and then, putting all my weight into one final rock, I threw myself backward onto the lamp. I smacked my head hard against the wall, and the chair got wedged at a forty-five-degree angle over the bedside table. But underneath my wrists and hands, I felt the glass shade of the lamp crack and shatter into shards. One of which I held in my bleeding fingers. It was enough. I moved it around until I had the tip wedged into the edge of the tape. Then I pushed and felt the tape cut. Another couple of slashes, and the pressure from my wrists was enough to do the rest.

With my hands free, I acted quickly, leaning forward and hacking at the tape around my ankles. I stood, unsteadily at first, with my head swimming and a feeling of nausea in my stomach. I moved to the door, opened it a fraction, and listened. There was silence.

There was a landing and, at the far end, a stairwell leading down. Dim light filtered up from below. I moved to the banisters and peered down. There wasn’t much to see, a carpeted staircase and part of a hallway. I had no weapon and no phone to call for backup. I took a couple of steps down and peered through the railings. The hallway was a broad space. Ahead of me, I could see the front door. To one side there was another door that was closed, but obviously gave onto a room at the front of the house, facing the sea. Next to it, there was an arch, and through it, three broad steps that led down into a large, modern living room. The lights were off, but I could make out a large fireplace