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Chapter 6: Holding Hermione
‘HAVE YOU SEEN THIS WOMAN??' shouted the headline of the newspaper that Clegg was reading.
Clegg turned to the woman he was sharing his office with. “Very alliterative, don't you think? A tribute to the literacy of the journalistic profession.” he said, pointing out the sub-heading: ‘Sleuths Seek Schneider Suspect.' His companion didn't answer. “Not a bad photo of you, either.” He smiled.
Hermione Addams' only response to his good humoured remarks was a grunt of frustration as she struggled to free herself from the ropes that held her tied tightly to a chair.
“I'm sorry that we had to bring you along but it really was very important to me to get Scotland Yard chasing off after the wrong scent and you certainly seem to have been instrumental in that. See here.” He waved another page of the paper. ‘Police in Edinburgh and Fife alerted,' it said. “I hadn't realised you had roots north of the border but I must confess it suits me very well.”
Hermione scowled at her captor. Her suitcase lay on the floor beside her – Clegg and his accomplice had forced her to pack it at gunpoint. Then they had led her out to Clegg's car, the barrel of a pistol pressed against her ribs all the time. She'd been pushed into the back of the car, forced down onto the floor and blindfolded as the car sped off through London to where she knew not. Now she struggled on a wooden chair, ropes criss-crossing her body in a way that Clegg was pleased to see demonstrated a rather agreeable figure beneath her rather conservative garb.
“The police inspector seems to drawing all the right conclusions if we believe this,” Clegg went on. “Listen – ‘According to police sources the woman behind this robbery is a very cool customer having fooled her employers for years before stealing one of the country's most prized trophies.' It certainly sounds as though they'll be looking for you but not, I am afraid, anywhere that they are likely to find you.”
Hermione frowned at Clegg. “You don't think you can keep me here do you? Surely you see they'll think of looking on any aerodrome, like this? You can't imagine you can steal one of the country's most important trophy's and then cover it up by kidnapping some innocent bystander.”
“Very good,” laughed Clegg. “The first part of that was an excellent deduction but not very difficult for you, I imagine. Can I ask how you knew?”
“The smell. That combination of petrol, oil and cellulose dope is quite distinctive. I don't think you'd find it anywhere else.”
“What an excellent detective you'd make, Miss Addams.” Clegg grinned at Hermione's confused look. “Still, thank goodness you're not working for Scotland Yard. They'd be a bit quicker off the mark if you were. I'm sure you are right about them, though. You're also right about not keeping you here. Eventually good old PC Plod will think to explore the airfields around London but you will be leaving the country shortly. I do hope you enjoy flying – it's the only way to go and you'll have the pleasure of travelling with one of the countries leading aviatrixes. You weren't really right about the kidnapping being to cover up the robbery, though. Really it was more the other way around.” Clegg grinned at her puzzled look. “Now I have a few things to do before the time for your flight, so I'll just check that you're not in danger of falling off of that chair.”
He crossed the room to where Hermione was sitting and checked the ropes that held her, ignoring her attempts to wriggle loose. She gave a cry of pain as he jerked the knots tighter. “Stop this, stop and let me go! You can't keep me here against my will!”
“Ah, yes, something I'd forgotten,” Clegg said. “You'll remember what this is for.” He picked up a rag from the work bench next to Hermione. Hermione shook her head but Clegg ignored her and forced it between her teeth. She choked as he pushed it deep into her mouth. He pulled a scarf from his pocket. The grunt she gave as he tied the scarf behind her neck was sufficiently muffled for him to feel that the gag was good enough.
Clegg looked down at his handiwork, satisfied that Hermione would not be moving far or attracting any attention. “You know that photo really doesn't do you justice,” he said. “You shouldn't wear your hair up like that.” He reached behind her head and unfastened her hair from the bun in which she wore it. “And those glasses don't help either.” He took them from her as she shook her head in protest. “Why, Miss Addams,” Clegg smirked, “you're quite beautiful.”
Hermione blinked up at him short sightedly and growled angrily behind her gag.
“And spirited too. Goodness what assets I have the luck to get hold of – it's wonderful that expediency should go hand in hand with good fortune. I really think that you will go rather well with my other recent acquisition. Now sit tight for a bit until its time for take off.”
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