24 comments/ 82519 views/ 11 favorites Dark Tales. The Vet. Ch. 01 By: torchthebitch I was tired, sore, in need of a long hot shower, and a change of clothes. I desperately needed to get rid of the stink of shit and blood. Instead, despondently, I headed back down the stairs to get the gun out of the Land Rover. Yeah. Same old story. It was a Monday. Mid morning. My wife had supposedly left for an exhibition and conference in Brussels. But there was a BMW M5 in the yard. I had stopped into the house on the way back from an early morning call. I had just put down a beautiful bay stallion, which didn't sit well to begin with, but finding my darling wife in the throws of passion with that arrogant bastard of an employer of hers just added to the mood. I opened the gun safe behind the seat, loaded the weapon, and returned to the house. ********** Janet and I had been married for five years. We had met at University. Students were given a place in the Halls of Residence for the first year but had to find their own accommodation for subsequent years. They are called Halls but were more of a mini village, with three or four students sharing a house. Whilst the individual houses were same-sex, the village was mixed. It quickly became party central, with the grassy area becoming an impromptu barbeque area. That is where I met Janet. I was studying veterinary science obviously. She was doing Business with French. We hit it off and went out together occasionally over the first year. But neither of us was ready to commit to each other. We didn't really see each other over the second year, except for bumping into each other in the students union or some of the other bars and clubs. Her third year was a placement in Belgium, and it was only when she returned for her finals that we actually got together, and started going steady. The relationship only lasted a year. Janet passed her finals and started looking for a job. I had another year to do, and quite frankly I did not need any distractions. I eventually graduated with first class honours, and specialities in large and exotic animals. I was offered a number of positions, and chose a practice on the periphery of town that provided services to farms, and studs as well as what we now call "companion animals": pets, to normal people. Anyway, we ran into each other at a three day event. She was running some sort of corporate event, and I was a guest of one of the owners who had a couple of horses in the competition. We arranged a date and things, developed from there. Janet was working for an international contracting company as an assistant to the regional sales director. Part of her duties was customer service. She organised promotional events for clients and potential clients. The job also involved some European travel. After about a year I proposed and she accepted. We were both twenty seven. Life together had been pretty damn good up to this point. She was making good money, and I had established a good reputation particularly with horses and zoo animals. We had bought a small run down farmhouse, with a couple of outbuildings, and were doing it up with plans for an extension for when the kids arrived. The house was set in its own ground, surrounded by hedge and trees. It had been a farm but the fields had been sold off to local farmers. The actual property had a very old agricultural caveat on the deeds, so you had to work in agriculture to live in it. The house didn't have enough ground to constitute a farm any more, and it had lain unsold for quite a while. The lawyers decided that veterinary work was sufficiently agricultural. So we got a real bargain, a rural property with development potential at a price we couldn't have expected but for my job. Our income allowed us to travel as well. I had some Spanish from school and, in addition to fluent French; Janet had picked up some German and Italian. So we toured a lot of Europe. It had never occurred to me that Janet might be engaged in extra marital activities. I had some pretty wealthy lady clients whose husbands thought the horses were enough to keep their wives occupied, but I had been propositioned often enough to know that some married women were not as faithful to their vows as they might be. Nevertheless I was not about to ruin the reputation of the practice that Henry, my partner had invited me to join. ********** I climbed the stairs quietly, although the music from the bedroom covered my entrance. Pushing open the door, I fired once, hitting her lover in the arse. As he yelled and jumped clear of my cheating bitch, I broke the gun, reloaded, and shot her too. Her lover recovered his composure and tried to charge at me, obviously intent at beating the fuck out of me. His exertions only accelerated the inevitable. He started to tremble and fell to the floor. Janet looked at the dart in her side and her eyes changed from shock, to fear, and finally dazed incomprehension as the tranquilliser took effect. I wasn't stupid enough to use the same gun I used for putting down fallen beasts. I had used the dart gun for putting zoo animals to sleep so I could treat them. As they lay there I went to the garage and got the roll of duck tape, returning to the bedroom to bind their wrists and ankles. I was about to stuff their underwear into their mouths, but decided against it. Instead I just taped them shut. Then I carried them both downstairs and into the byre. Still naked. The byre was an old stone building with thick walls, so it was stone cold no matter what the weather. It hadn't been cleaned out since it was last used for animals, and there were rings set into the wall to tie the beasts to when milking or whatever. I tied them to two of them. Then I had an idea. My mother had looked after my elderly grandmother until she died. When Mum died, I had cleared her house and stashed a lot of the stuff in one or the sheds. I still hadn't disposed of it. There were a lot of the old surgical supplies the old woman had needed. Amongst these were some incontinence pants. I got two pairs and releasing the restraints round my captive's legs, I put these on both of them. I taped their legs again, returned to the house and went through Julian's pockets. Then I used his keys and checked his car. So, when they came to, they were sitting in dried out animal dung, with their wrists tied to two of those rings, more or less naked, and freezing cold. I was showered, dressed in clean clothes, sitting in a comfortable chair with a steaming cup of coffee and a nice warm pullover, my shotgun across my lap, my day's work done. I ripped the tape from Janet's face. "Just what the hell do you think you are playing at?" She was trying bravado, but her mouth was dry, and her eyes told a different story. I held the coffee to her mouth and she gulped at it. Too quickly. It burned all the way down. "You bastard!" she gasped, eventually. "So tell me about it." "About what?" she blustered. "How long has this been going on?" "How long has what been going on?" I grabbed her by the hair and re-applied the tape. "I'll leave you to think about things for a while. When I come back you had better be ready to tell me the truth." ******** I had picked up a couple of really spicy curries on the way home. Releasing only one hand for each of them I set the food and some water beside them, then gave them each a plastic spoon. Then I ripped the tape off their faces. They both grabbed the water and drained the cups. I took them and filled them from the outside tap. I listened outside the door but couldn't make out their whispered conversation. Not that it mattered. Their future was pretty much sealed. As a result, so was mine. "I suppose I understand the looks I was getting from Willem and Jan at the last company do." "Took you long enough," sneered Julian. I turned the muzzles towards him. "You really think I'm scared of that? You haven't the balls to shoot!" He was wrong. Now, rock salt will barely penetrate the skin, normally. But if you are close enough, it will. I was close enough, and put both barrels into his calf. He squealed. It reminded me of "Deliverance", but I was not going to be fucking him in the arse. Well, I might, but I decided if I was going to I would use the double barrel. I reloaded. "Dominic, I love you. I had to do it to keep my job. Julian was blackmailing me ..." "You fucking lying bitch!" screamed Julian between gasps of pain. "You've been screwing half the management to get where you are!" Then to me, "You better get me an ambulance. Get me one now and I'll say nothing to the police." Yeah, right, I thought. I put the next two cartridges into his other calf, and reloaded. "You fucking cunt! I'll see you in jail for that!" The next two went into his thigh. He squealed again but decided to say nothing. I taped his mouth. "So who all were you going to screw in Brussels, then?" "It was an exhibition, it was work!" "So what was with the flight tickets to Barcelona?" "I didn't know he was taking me there!" "The clothes you packed say different. Look, obviously you've been lying to me for God knows how long. And you haven't the respect to tell me the truth now, so you are going to pay for it. Seems to me you aren't expected back in the office this week, and you aren't expected in Brussels either, so I have all week to decide what to do with you, and nobody is going to report you missing." I taped her mouth again. They looked at one another and I could see that they finally realised I had them in the palm of my hand. Just to reinforce that impression, I took the hose and soaked them. I hadn't expected it but the water soaked dung in which they were sitting started to give off a strong smell of urine and dung. I left them to contemplate the shortness of their future. ******* I sat down with a cup of tea to decide how I was going to proceed. I had rather burned my bridges by shooting Julian in the legs. The temptation to kill the pair was strong. I was going to wind up in jail anyway, for using the gun and the false imprisonment, but I wasn't about to spend anymore time slammed up than necessary. In fact, I was going to avoid it as long as possible. There are plenty of missing people who their families were looking for and couldn't find. Taking my video camera and gun, I went back to the byre. The lovebirds were shivering like fury. Looking in their eyes, fear had set in. I set up the camera and took the tape off Julian's mouth. Janet's eyes were pleading now. I ignored her. "My arms, untie my arms please?" he begged. "I need the toilet. Please?" "Well Julian, you've been fucking my wife, and you expect me to be nice? I think you'll need to give me something if you want any consideration from me, don't you?" "Anything!" His hopes were raised. He saw a way out. "Take the car, or the boat, I'll sign them over to you. Just tell me what you want, I'll give you anything." I'd forgotten about his boat, it was a rather nice cabin cruiser. An idea was forming. "Half the management, you said." I still wanted to mess with their minds but I wanted to find out who else Janet had been screwing. If I was off the grid I might get a chance at them too. "What?" "You said she was screwing half the management. I want names." "I can't I'll lose my job." "So you want to take their share of punishment? I have all week to persuade you. You aren't due back till Saturday; no-one is going to miss you till then." I poked his leg wound. He winced. "Names!" "The toilet, I need the toilet." "You have incontinence pants on. You'll get the toilet if and when I'm satisfied." "What about Janet, she'll need it too?" "Ooh! Gallantry. I'll make it clear shall I? She's the one who betrayed me. You are collateral damage. I really don't give a fuck about you. You know where messing with me got you. So far you have all your limbs. You can still walk away from this, but if you go to the police things will get worse for you. I might go to prison, but I'll get out." I sounded a damn sight more sanguine about it than I felt. "Please, the cramps are killing me." I taped his mouth again. "I'll let you think about it for a while more," and made to leave. "Mmmph, mmmph." I did however untie their arms from the rings; they offered no resistance as I tied them behind their backs and laid them flat. Going back into the house I started collecting thing for my departure. Julian's offer of his boat gave me the germ of an idea. My parents had been on holiday in Ireland when I was born. Mum had gone into premature labour and it was touch and go whether I would survive, so they had registered my birth in Ireland. I had been re-registered when they brought me home, but I still had my Irish birth certificate. I gathered my personal documents, some clothes, and the Euros Janet and Julian had drawn for their trip to Spain. I threw in my stamp collection. Tomorrow I would go to the bank and get the special collection from the safety deposit box. The house was mortgaged to the hilt. We had put all our savings into the property and it was heavily mortgaged. We needed both incomes to finance it. The idea had been that we stretch ourselves while we were young, and pay rises and house price rises would take care of the future. Janet knew about the stamps, but thought it a childish hobby and put no value on it. I knew differently. ******* I slept fitfully and phoned in sick to the surgery next morning. The lovers had clearly not slept anywhere near as well as I had. There was a different odour in the byre. Clearly the curry had finally done its work. I tied one of each of their hands to the rings and allowed them to eat a breakfast of Bran flakes and wholemeal bread. I had added some laxative to the spread and to the tea. I was determined that they would sit in their own filth. Making it pass through their gut rapidly would mean that the stomach acids would not be properly neutralised. They were going to have the worlds worst case of nappy rash. I just had to make sure it didn't turn into septicaemia. Judging by the squirming they were doing, the skin on their nether regions was stinging already. Janet tried to talk to me. "Please James, let me go to the bathroom. I need to clean myself. I'm stinging." "As far as I'm concerned, my darling wife, you can sit in your shit and your cheating cunt can rot away. What you are getting is trench foot of the arse. Its technical name is immersion injury. The troops in the Falklands got it because they couldn't dry their feet. If it goes on too long your skin will rot away and the only way to fix it is to cut it away. Julian will lose his dick and balls, and you'll wind up having your cheating cunt cut out. You'll be pissing and shitting in plastic pouches for the rest of your lives," my smile held no warmth. The shock on their faces showed I was getting into their heads. "If you tell me what I want, soon enough, you might not have to rely on memory for your sex life." I wasn't entirely sure whether I was lying. I separated them this time. I put the ear defenders I use for shooting, on Janet, and taped them in place. Then I set up the camera. "OK Julian, where are the keys for the boat?" His face glowed with hope. "On my key ring! The keys for my flat are there too. There's a safe in the wardrobe with ten grand in it. The key is on the ring too! Take the lot, just let me get cleaned up and I'll be out of your life, I won't go to the police, honestly!" Don't you just love it when an arrogant bastard starts begging? But I filed the information for future reference. "Where is the boat?" "The marina. Berth A20. Right at the end of the jetty." "OK, I'll have a little think about it. While I'm thinking, you are going to tell me and my little electronic friend here," I pointed to the camera, "all about my cheating wife, who she's been screwing and when and where. You are also going to tell me who you've been boasting to about her. And just so you know, she'll be doing the same shortly, so don't miss out anything." He started his confession. I was a little surprised to find it had been only going on for about a year. I was also surprised to find it had been going on that long. I had braced myself to find she had been unfaithful for the entire duration of her time with the company but hoped it was a recent thing. "It started at the Dusseldorf Expo last year. On the last night the management went out to dinner and the guys were all going to a lap dancing club. I was going to get Janet and Belegardis, from the Brussels office, a taxi back to the hotel, but they said they wanted to see what the whole lap dancing thing was about. They got a little drunk and Wim bought them a lap dance. They seemed embarrassed at first but got into it, then Janet said she could do better. It went downhill from there. She and Bel tried to dance but the management wouldn't have it. They got a bit more drunk and we headed back to the hotel. Wim had a suite and Janet and Bel decided they would give us a dance because they had got us nearly thrown out of the club. I mean, come on, what would you do James? They are both hot. There's no way any of us were going to turn down a dance." He looked at me like a naughty puppy that knew it had done wrong. It was so pathetic I nearly laughed. "Go on." "Well, you know how it goes ..." "No, actually. How does a wife start to cheat on her husband?" Any sympathy evaporated. "Well they started stripping and they got a bit competitive, Janet, unzipped Jan's trousers, and fished his cock out. Then she rubbed herself on him. She still had her knickers on. But Bel got Wim's out and sort of moved the crotch of her pants to the side, and rubbed her fanny on him. Janet dropped her pants and started fucking Jan. It wound up the six of us screwed the two of them. After that we got together every time there was an exhibition. A girl from the French branch and German office joined in six months ago." At least he had the decency to look ashamed. "Names." "Well, me obviously, Jan Witters and Wim Van der Cruyssen, from the Brussels office, Otto Visser from Dortmund, and Christophe Delmas, from the Strasbourg branch." "You said six." Julian wouldn't meet my eyes "Brian Urquart," he mumbled. "That fuck." Urquart was the UK manager of their company. He was an arrogant, thieving, dishonest, bastard. He was also worth a fortune. When his wife found out he was playing away she divorced him, but he used his money and contacts to leave the poor girl virtually destitute. He had seen to it that she was refused legal aid and the solicitor she could afford was outgunned. I should have realised as soon as Julian said the whole thing started at an Expo. That bastard never missed a freebie. "Who were the women?" "Well Belgardis Lieshouten, Amelie Faugeron, and Birgit Theune. They are all married too." I got him to run through as much as he could remember and recorded it all. It made me sick. Although the company executives had used the women, according to him they had instigated events and were more than willing participants. Once he was finished I had no stomach to listen to Janet's version. Nevertheless I needed her version. I was vacillating between wreaking more vengeance on the two of them, and releasing them, taking my chances that they would not go to the police. I took the camera in to Janet. "Now. I want the truth out of you. I have heard what Julian had to say, what happens to you both depends on what you tell me." Her tale was pretty much the same as Julian's. Except she missed out the occasions she was fucking Julian and Brian fucking Urquart when she was at home. "It was just a bit of fun. Those things can be so boring. I just wanted something to do at night. It wasn't as if I was hurting you. You weren't missing out since I wasn't at home anyway?" she pleaded. Dark Tales. The Vet. Ch. 01 "You really don't know much about the male of the species, do you? Those bastards were looking down their nose at the fucking sucker whose wife was giving it away to anyone who wanted while I was keeping faith with a lying cheating slut!" Rage was growing again. They were really going to suffer for this. I had lost reason and was not thinking of consequences. But then I suppose she hadn't been either. "You better have enjoyed it 'cause your sex life is goin' to be memories from now on, honey" I dragged her back into Julian. Fury was burning in my gut. "Please James, please, let us get these things off and get cleaned up, my arse is raw. Let us get cleaned. We won't say anything to the police?" begged Julian. "I'm thirsty," pleaded Janet, "can I have some water?" "Just let us stand up and move about a bit, for God's sake! My muscles are aching." Now I knew enough psychology to know they needed to have some hope, and to see me as a potential benefactor if I was going to control them. I slit the tape on their legs but left their wrists bound. They needed help to get to their feet and both screamed as the blood flow returned. Gently they flexed and bent to release the agony of their cramps, and both tried to remove the plastic pants that were retaining the little chemical factory that was slowly digesting their flesh. "Ah-ah-aah!" I warned. "For God's sake, James. If I get an infection I'll – we'll never be able to have children," said Janet. "I will be able to. Probably just as well that you don't. I don't think your cheating genes should be passed on, darling." Her attempt to kick me would have been pathetic, if it hadn't been so comical. She could barely move and when she swung her leg she lost balance, tumbling to the floor, unable to use her hands to save herself. For her trouble, all she got was a mouthful of dung. Julian tried to make for the door, but a gentle push was all that was needed to send him horizontal too. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You really shouldn't have done that. I said as I dragged them back to their bonds.". "I was nice to you and let you stretch and you got all violent with me. You said you wouldn't tell the police and yet you try to escape. I wonder where you thought you were going to go? Hmm? Seems I still can't trust you, you haven't learnt you lesson, sure you haven't?" I reapplied their gags, and just for badness, I turned the hose on them again Leaving both of them sobbing, I went back to the house and formulated a plan. I had three or four days before they might be missed and a couple more before any alarm bells would ring. Hell, given that their activities seemed little short of public knowledge people might think they had run off together. Although I couldn't really take that chance. I looked at what I had gathered together. There was enough to give me a start. I could go to Ireland, use my birth certificate to establish a new identity, and disappear. ********** I figured the best way to fade from view was to use cash and public transport as much as possible. I would have to avoid stations and ports as much as possible; Britain is the CCTV camera centre of the world. I fired up Julian's laptop and plotted a bus route to Holyhead. I figured it was the busier of the terminals and took me into Dublin. I could disappear into a bigger crowd and Dublin would have routes to more of Ireland than Rosslare. I decided to start moving right away to allow the trail to go cold. I needed to make sure they wouldn't die before they would be found. The rule of three says you can survive three minutes without air, three days without water, and three weeks without food. I returned to the byre with water, and allowed them to drink. I had laced it with a sedative and once they were out I set up a couple of intravenous giving sets with saline drips, connecting all the bags of fluid into the drip control I reckoned five litres should get them through the next few days and leave the incontinence pants soaked. To prevent infection I dosed the drips with antibiotics. Ok it was animal antibiotic, but I'm a vet, I just worked it out by body mass. I was tempted to wait till they came round from the sedative and have another little gloat, but I was pretty deep in the shit so I resisted. Just before I left I had another idea and added some sedative to the drips. It would keep them disorientated for a while longer. I removed the tape from their mouths so they wouldn't choke. Having checked their bonds, I locked the place up, and, loading my gear into his car, headed over to Julian's. If you look sufficiently confident no-one notices you. I simply walked up to his door, making sure he didn't have an alarm system, and used his key to enter. I found the safe, took the money and left. I resisted the temptation to search for anything linked to my wife's betrayal. After all, I had his laptop and the video recording. I drove to a piece of derelict ground in a less than salubrious part of town that was used as a free car park. I left the keys on the tray of the centre console and the door obviously improperly closed. Taking my rucksack and grip I simply walked away. By the time I got to Ireland the car would be stripped and the parts on their way to Saudi or the Balkans. Being right hand drive, British prestige motors tend to be stripped for parts rather than sold complete. It is also easier to smuggle them out that way. Then I went to the marina and again, brazenly, walked along the jetty, got onto the boat, fired up the engine and cast-off. I sailed round the coast a little until I found a little cove. I took the boat in and unloaded my rucksack. The grip, containing my passport, part of my stamp collection and about £5000 I left onboard along with a couple of empty whisky bottles. Then I plotted a course for Spain, pointed her south, and sent her on her way. She would sail till she ran out of fuel. I had no idea how far that would be. Hitching the pack onto my back, I headed inland to the bus, and using the planned route I made my way to Holyhead. There I bought a foot passenger return to Dublin. Dark Tales. The Vet. Ch. 02 Arriving in Dublin, I decided I would take a walking holiday, and explore the land of my birth. The first bus was heading to Kildare, so that is where I went. Three days into my extended holiday, I was sitting outside a pub overlooking the Atlantic. I noticed a mobile phone lying under a vacant table. I lifted it and found a cyber café where I did a search for the telephone number what had been my local police force. I used the mobile to report people trying to break into a house and gave the address of my former home. The operator tried to keep me on the line and get more details, but I hung up. I wiped down the phone and dumped it in a litter bin. A month later, I decided to rent a place in Galway and started looking for a job. I had started calling myself Seamus óCléirigh, the Irish form of my name, James Clarke. A lot of Irish people change their names to an Gaelic form; it was not unusual and allowed me to use my birth certificate without any questions being asked. My walking tour had trimmed the fat off my belly, and I had allowed my hair and beard to grow. Since my beard was quite ginger I changed my hair colour too. I was determined to disappear. Having an address meant that I could apply for a passport, and a driving licence. I now had a complete, legal Irish identity with all new photographs. Having shed the weight I decided to keep it off, I started running and found a gym. ******** I chose Galway for a number of reasons, not least that it was a University town with a lot of high tech industries, many of them pharmaceutical. If I couldn't get a veterinary job I could get one with one of those. I applied for a number of jobs and got one with a company that did a lot of research in animal drugs. All I was really interested in was an income. I still had a decent bit of cash, but it was running out fast now I was paying rent. I had taken the opportunity to go through Julian's computer. There was quite a bit of information about Mec-Dy, the company they all worked for. There were profiles on Witters, van der Cruyssen, Visser, and Delmas. They were all regional directors. Janet was playing with the big boys. Julian was British sales manager. I used a couple of internet cafes to research them, but couldn't get anything more than a few addresses. I couldn't be sure they were the right ones for the individuals concerned. All I could potentially use were the e-mail addresses of the company. I found a file of passwords, but it was protected. I had little to do of an evening so I spent some time trying all the usual simple codes, mothers' maiden name, birthdates, and so on. No luck. Then I opened his pictures file. Amongst the photos was one labelled "my first car". It clearly showed the number plate. I tried that. Lo and behold the password file opened. Very kindly he had labelled every password, including his bank account. I was tempted to empty it, but thought doing so might draw too much attention. What really provoked me, though, were the photos he had of a number of the sex parties they had held. Further probing revealed some video clips. At first I didn't have the stomach to view the all the photos and video. After a few more weeks of anger and jealousy gnawing at my stomach, I decided the way to get revenge against the rest of the bastards was to use those photos and video. I had to review them to select the, I suppose, best. I noticed in some of them Janet was smoking. I knew she didn't use tobacco so I was guessing she had a drug habit I didn't know about either. Firstly though, I had to find out if I was a person of interest for the police. I hadn't attracted any interest from the Garda, and I was fairly confident that any search focussing on James Clarke would not throw up Seamus óCléirigh. The nearest English pronunciation would be O'Cleary. Nevertheless, I decided a discrete search of the newspapers might be in order. I was getting rather paranoid about revealing my whereabouts. I didn't think that my attempts to conceal my movements were foolproof, but the longer I stayed free, the more I realised I could have another life. What I found just made things more complicated. I was dead. Am dead? Well, anyway, I had been presumed dead after the boat had been found. The reports didn't say much about Janet and Julian except that they had been found tied up after reports of a break-in, and had required extensive medical treatment for their injuries. The report about the recovery of the boat appeared just two weeks ago, two months after I discovered my wife's infidelity. It had been recovered by some Spanish fishermen, who had claimed salvage rights to it. The report said that I had stolen the vessel and must have fallen overboard. It was linked to the incident at my house, suggesting that I had tried to disappear having faked the break-in, and perished when the boat ran out of fuel. So, I was free and clear to live as Seamus, but my plans to use the photos and videos might reveal that I was alive. I had intended to use the e-mail address book for Mec-Dy and send pictures to every member of staff, in every branch. Spanish fishermen! That was it. I could speak Spanish, it was in the European Union, and there were direct flights from Cork or Dublin. I could go to Spain, and send e-mails from there. I checked the airports. I could fly out on a Friday evening and return on Sunday. I wouldn't even have to take time off work. ****** I flew out the following Friday. Paranoid as ever, I wore sunglasses and a panama hat through the airports. I was not relying purely on my beard and hair. Arriving in Madrid I went straight to the hotel and hit the sack. I had two laptops with me. Mine and Julian's. First thing on Saturday I went into town looking for an unsecured wireless link. It wasn't hard to find. More in hope than anger I pulled Julian's computer from my backpack, and fired it up. I was surprised when it connected. The second machine wasn't needed. I would have expected him to cancel his internet account. If he hadn't cancelled that, maybe I could still access his intranet. I dug out the list of passwords, and I was in! That provided another little detour in the electronic trail. The address book was split into the separate national branches so I sent different messages and attachments. There were, however, photographs of all the players sent to each branch. I had prepared the messages before hand so it didn't take long to send them. Once done, I took a stroll through Madrid in the late autumn sun. I resolved to do a bit more travelling once the dust had settled. I lunched on tapas and a fairly rough red wine, before returning to my small backstreet hotel; chosen because it was less likely to have security cameras. There I took the hard drive from Julian's computer and packed it away in case I came up with a future use for the data. I slept for a couple of hours and then went to the Parque Lineal del Río Manzanares, a park along the river which runs through Madrid. I followed the river till I found a deep looking area, and threw the computer in before returning to the Plaza de Santa Bárbara to sample the famous Madrid nightlife. By three in the morning I had had enough. The town was still alive with revellers but I was coming down from an adrenaline high. I returned to the hotel for a few hours sleep before catching my plane home. ****** For the next year I worked for the pharmaceutical company. Galway is a lively town with a young population and the social life that goes along with it. I wasn't short of female company but was reticent about commitment. Whilst I was content with the job, I still wanted to get back into veterinary practice, so I was on the look out for a position. One evening while looking through the newspaper, I spotted an opportunity. A practice was up for sale. Next morning, I made an appointment to visit. It turned out that the principal Dermott McCulla, was getting on in years, although he looked a good ten years younger than the seventy that he claimed. Despite the fact that my accent had picked up a more Irish tone over the year he picked me out immediately as English. He subtly gave me the third degree. I told him how I had been in practice in England but my wife and I separated when she found the life of a country vet less exciting than she was prepared to accept. I told him that I since I had no family I had spent a few months travelling while I decided what to do and wound up in Galway, liked the place and took the first job that came along while I found my feet again. He could tell there was more to it, but it was true enough that he saw the pain. He referred me to his accountant so I could look over the books, but I could already tell that it was a sound enough business that was ripe for growth. Basically he was looking after his neighbours animals and hadn't taken on any new business for years. To raise the money I was going to have to sell my stamp collection. Now when I say my collection, the core of it was really my grandfather's, and father's. That is where the value lay. I took it to Sotheby's in Dublin. Initially the appraiser thought it was just another fairly boring collection. He valued it at about ten thousand Euros, which I thought was low. Then I showed him the part of the collection I had kept in the bank. "May I ask where you got these?" "Some were collected by my grandfather, some by my father, some by me." The British album contained examples of every British stamp up to the time I had left England. Amongst the collection was a set of 2 un-separated Penny Blacks that I had bought, another Penny Black, two Penny Reds and two Two Penny Blues, one perforated and one imperforated. The Empire album was not as complete, but contained a full set of Falkland Island stamps. The European album was quite extensive, and had a complete set from Nazi Germany. My grandfather had been stationed in Germany after World War Two, and he had bought many collections from Germans who needed money to survive. These had formed the core of the collection. The albums I had left on the boat were virtually worthless modern stamps. I suppose the Spanish fishermen had kept them. "Well Mr óCléirigh, I think you should take these albums to our main philatelic department in London for valuation. There is a major auction in three months time. So if you are of a mind to sell it would be a good time to get them catalogued for sale. As it is, I would estimate a value of at least a quarter of a million Euro." "I'll do that then. Thank you" This posed a problem. If I was to buy the veterinary practice I needed the money from the sale. It looked as if I couldn't get it for at least three months. I returned to Galway and paid another visit to Dermott. "Mr McCulla, I'm afraid I need to sell a stamp collection to raise the money to buy the practice. The auction won't be for about three months." "Well, perhaps I can make a proposal to you. How about you work with me for those three months and we can see how you get on with my clients. Then you can decide then whether you still want to buy." And so it was decided. Whilst I was fairly sure the police were not looking for me, I used Bus Eireann to get to London. I simply got on a bus, which took me to the ferry and then another bus straight into London. Sotheby's agreed to catalogue the collection for sale, and would notify me of how they would divide the lots and I could make reserves based on their valuations. A month later I was advised of an estimated value of half a million pounds sterling. Two months later I was nine hundred thousand pounds richer after commission and fees! During those three months, I had worked with Dermott and I had established myself as a member of the community. The work was mainly large animals and farm dogs. Dermott, however, also ran a small holding, raising beef and lamb, to augment his income. He intended that the farm was part of the sale. So I also learned to raise, buy and sell animals. When the money from the sale of the stamps was transferred to my account, I paid Dermott for the business. He went into hard earned retirement, and I became a part-time farmer and full time vet. I worked hard at the practice and built up a strong client base. My reputation grew and I found I was getting a lot of small animal work too. I opened a surgery in town and soon I employed another vet, two veterinary nurses and a receptionist. I was still able to have a social life. Despite Ireland being a Catholic country, there were a surprising number of women whose marriages had failed, and were living separated lives. There were also a number of women who had never married and I was never short of a companion. Then, one day, life, as she does, threw the curve ball. I was in the surgery, when in rushed Maureen O'Hara. Not the real one of course, but a carbon copy. She had knocked down a dog and rushed into the office looking for help. I went out to her car and lifted the animal from the boot, blood leaking from both ends. I knew the poor beast was not going to make it. I also knew her owner, and more particularly her daughter, would be distraught. I X-rayed the dog. Too many broken ribs, a fractured skull and a broken back meant she had to be put to sleep, there and then. I cleaned her up and laid her in a blanket making her look as much as if she was asleep as I could. I loaded her into the back of my car and took her to her owner. All this time Maureen O'Hara had waited, I don't think the dog's owners would be any more distraught. She insisted on coming with me. I knocked the door. "Mrs Cadogan, I'm afraid Ferdy, was knocked down. She was very badly injured and I had to put her to sleep" "Oh Seamus, you didn't? Could you not have saved her?" amongst the tears. "I'm really sorry Mrs Cadogan, I really couldn't. The lady who hit her brought her straight to the surgery but there was absolutely nothing I could do. Ferdy is in the car. I thought you would want to bury her yourself." "Oh yes. Aoife, wouldn't want anything else." "Eh ... the other thing is, eh, the lady who hit Ferdy is with me. She is upset too and wanted to explain what happened." "Oh." "She wasn't able to avoid Ferdy. She ran out from between two cars. She has a dog of her own and wants' you to know how sorry she is. If you don't want to see her I'll bring Ferdy in so you don't have to meet her?" "If she brought Ferdy to you and wanted to speak to me she must be a good person. I'll speak to her." Mrs Cadogan accompanied me to the car and my passenger got out. "Mrs Cadogan, this is ... Oh, I'm afraid I don't know your name." "Niamh (Neave) Gallagher. Mrs Cadogan I'm so sorry I just couldn't avoid Ferdy." "Mr óCléirigh, explained. If there is any damage to your car, let me know and I'll get it fixed." "Oh, I couldn't do that. I want to get another dog for you, if you'll let me." "I'll just take Ferdy inside." I said. "Her bed is in the kitchen, if you would just put her in that. I'll explain to Aoife when she comes home from school." I left the women talking and arranged Ferdy in her basket. Returning to the car I explained that I would have to get back to the surgery. Mrs Gallagher, for by now I had noticed the rings on her finger got back in and we returned to the office. "How much do I owe you?" "Forget it. I wouldn't charge for that." "At least let me buy you dinner then?" "Should a married woman be seen buying me dinner?" "I doubt very much if my husband would care, even if I knew where he was." "Well in that case," I gave her my card, "phone me." That Friday Niamh phoned, dinner was booked in Galway for Saturday evening. I dressed in my best and met her at the restaurant. Over dinner I discovered that she her husband had left her. She didn't go into details and I didn't press her. I told her that I had caught my wife with another man and left her. Neither of us was divorced. After dinner we went to a club, and danced a little, parting at midnight. I felt that I wanted to get to know her better but now I had to face the stark reality of my situation. I was still married, even if I was presumed dead. I felt I wanted to develop a relationship with Naimh. If I was going to do so I would have to resolve my past. Hell I was getting ahead of myself. Maybe she wasn't interested. She phoned me the following Thursday. "I decided if you weren't going to phone me, I would have to phone you." "I don't have your number." "Oh! I didn't think." "Shall I pick you up tomorrow evening?" "That would be nice, around eight?" "Fine. Where?" She gave me her address. I picked her up and we went dancing again. When I dropped her off I arranged to pick her up again on Sunday afternoon. We went to the beach and strolled along the sand, just getting to know one another. This set the pattern for the next few months, then one Friday my offer of dinner was turned down. "I'll make dinner tonight." She said. Over the meal she asked why I was moving so slowly. "We're both grown ups. We've both been married?" "It's just complicated. Neither of us is free. We're both still technically married." "So you're saying you see this as a long term relationship?" "Well, I suppose I am." "And if we were both divorced?" "Well, there's the thing. I can never be divorced." "Why ever not? You're English aren't you? Divorce is straight forward in England" I stood up. "Look, it really is very complicated. I need to think some things through before we take this any further. I'd better go. I'll phone you." I didn't phone that weekend. I did some solitary walking over The Burren, trying to work out what I would tell her. The darkness of my actions had come back to haunt me. I was still a prisoner of my wife's infidelity. I needed to find out what had happened to Janet. To do that, I risked going to prison. I phoned Niamh on Monday morning, before she went to work and arranged to see her that night. I arrived at her door at eight. We sat in her lounge. "Would you like a drink?" "Tea would be good," I procrastinated. "Well, Seamus?" There was nothing for it. If I wanted to move on I had to bury the ghosts. I told her the truth. Well, some of it. I came home, found my wife screwing her boss, threatened them with a gun, dragged them out to the barn, tied them up, stole her lover's money, car, and boat, engineered my disappearance, and adopted a new identity. "Oh my God! How have you been able to carry that with you for so long? I'm going to need time to understand how I feel about all this, Seamus. I think you had better go. I need time." I left. Part of me felt better for the confession. Part of me felt it was time to run again. Why the hell had I told her so much? What made me think I could trust her? Two days later, she was on my doorstep. "Well aren't you going to invite me in?" "Sorry, come in. Drink?" "Coffee, please." We sat either side of the kitchen table. "I think you need to resolve your issues if we are going to have a chance to take things further, Seamus." "I know, Niamh. I just don't know how to deal with the mess I've made." "Well, I think I have a solution. My Uncle Brendan has a legal practice in Liverpool. I think you should talk with him." "I don't see how he can help." "Uncle Brendan does a lot of work tracing kids who run away to England. He uses investigators all over England. He might be able to trace your wife and find out where you stand with the police. It's worth a try?" "I suppose so." "Good. He'll be here tomorrow. Do you fish?" "Eh, I have done." "Right. He likes to fish the Shannon. It should let you tell him your story. He might be able to tell you what he can do." ******** "Well young man, have you a hundred Euros on you?" Dark Tales. The Vet. Ch. 02 "Yeah?" "Give." He held out his hand and I counted the money out. "Right you have hired me so everything is covered by legal privilege. Tell me everything, including the bits you didn't tell Niamh." So I did. Including the Spanish trip. "Jesus boyo, you dug yourself a hole. Right. I'll go back and do a bit of investigating. It won't be cheap, but it will be worth it." Niamh and I were still going out to dinner and dancing, but we had an unspoken agreement that we were slowing things until we had some news from Uncle Bendan. Six weeks after our conversation, he arrived back in Galway and called into the surgery. "Can you take some time off, Seamus?" "Yes, sure." I arranged with Eithne, the receptionist, to get Declan to cover. Shall we head up to the farm?" "Sounds good." We took our coffee into the sitting room and Declan gave me the report. "That is a comprehensive account of what happened to your wife after you left. It is the only copy there is. Read it thoroughly and phone me tomorrow evening. I'm staying with Niamh, but I'll be fishing during the day." He finished his coffee, we shook hands and he left. I weighed the report in my hand, anxious to know what it said. Afraid of what it might mean. ******** The police had responded to my phone call to find Janet and Julian squirming in agony. They called an ambulance and the lovers were treated for severe immersion injury compounded by the action of diarrhoea. They hadn't suffered lasting damage, but it took some time for their skin to heal. Neither Julian nor Janet brought made a complaint that meant the police hadn't laid charges. The e-mails to their company, on the other hand, had set the cat among the pigeons. An American company was in negotiations with Mec-dy to buy them out. One of the e-mail addresses I had sent the photos to happened to be a member of the buy-out team. When they got it, the Americans started to get cold feet. European employers were not as concerned about the private lives of their employees as U.S. companies. There is not the same precedent for claims against businesses for sexual misconduct by staff. Nevertheless, they were wary of an action being brought in the courts in their country. The Europeans investigated the culprits and promptly terminated their employment. Urquart was furious, and blamed Julian and Janet. When he lost his job, Julian's wife, Natalie, had thrown him out of the house. With nowhere to go he moved into my house with Janet. While clearing his possessions Natalie found some drugs. These she handed into the police who arrested and charged him. This led the police to search my house where they found more. Inquiries of the Spanish police revealed that they had also found drugs on his boat. He claimed that he was holding them for Urquart, and claimed that they used the boat to smuggle drugs from the continent, but only for their personal use. Unfortunately for them, the quantities were sufficient for charges of dealing to be laid. The link with a major regional employer had given the local journalists a chance to make a bit of a name for themselves so they had covered it in more depth than the nationals.The police investigated the European connection, and Witters, van der Cruyssen, Visser and Delmas were hauled in by their respective police agencies. Investigations led to charges of sex and drug trafficking, linked to Eastern Europe with sentences ranging from ten to fifteen years Urquat turned out to be an even nastier piece of work than I had realised. He had Janet and Julian abducted. They were taken to an unoccupied warehouse, but fortunately for them the police had Urquart under surveillance, and immediately called in reinforcements to raid the premises. The police weren't quite quick enough to save Julian from a severe beating, but Janet had only received a broken nose and cheek bone when she was rescued. Urquart, Julian, and Janet were tried on a variety of charges. Julian went down for ten years on the drugs charges. Urquart got a twenty stretch and had his property and bank accounts seized by the Assets Recovery branch of the Serious Organised Crime Agency. Janet got off with a suspended sentence. She tried to get me declared officially dead, using the newspaper reports I had seen to back the claim, so she could sell the house and claim on my life insurance. The case had dragged on and the loss adjusters disputed the claim. Eventually the bank foreclosed on the mortgage and she lost the house. With no income she couldn't pursue the case and wound up working in Tesco, as a shelf stacker and checkout girl. There she met a widower who managed to date her, eventually proposing. With all the newspaper coverage, the only way for her to grab him, and doubtless more importantly, his money, was to get rid of me. The upshot of that was that Janet had divorced me for abandonment. I was a free agent! ******** Next morning, I phoned Naimh, and arranged to meet her for lunch. I was waiting for her. Her face was a mix of anticipation and anxiety. "Well?" "Your uncle gave me this." I handed her the report. "I want you to read it before we make any decisions." "Are you sure?" "As sure as I am of anything. If you and I are to have any sort of future, I need you to know the truth. I've lived under a shadow for too long. I want to be able to walk in the sun with you. No secrets." "I'll take this home. I'll phone you later." I spent the afternoon on tenterhooks. The call came at seven. "Seamus, can you come to the house? Uncle Brendan is here. We can think about what we do now." I was in the car in a flash. Seated on the patio, I toyed with my coffee anxiously. Brendan spoke. "As I see it, you cannot marry ..." My heart sank. Until that moment, I don't think I realised how much I loved and wanted to marry Niamh. "... for at least eighteen months." "What?" I was thoroughly confused. "Niamh cannot get divorced for another eighteen months." "I thought you couldn't get divorced in Ireland?" "You are behind the times Seamus, or do you prefer James? Divorce has been available in Ireland for nearly ten years. Niamh and her husband have been separated for two and a half years, but the law requires that they have been apart for four years. You can't get married until then." That explained a lot. I looked at Niamh, "What do you say?" "We have eighteen months to wait." "I haven't asked you to marry me." "You will," she smiled. ******* Niamh doesn't know about the conversation Brendan and I had the day after she told me I would ask her to marry. He wanted to make sure I wouldn't harm his only niece. I assured him I had grown, and that I had no intention of putting myself in such a position ever again. I may not have been in jail but I wasn't free. He gave me that freedom and I am never going to sacrifice that freedom again. We married two years later. I am still known as Seamus. It is much easier than explaining to all my new friends and clients. Niamh and I live on the farm, but now I rent out the land. The freedom to travel and see the world with such a beautiful partner is too precious to tie myself to property. And she doesn't want me leaving our bed at dawn.