The barking grew louder and closer, and Rachael tried to wrench herself free. The chains around her wrists, ankles, and neck tore into her flesh as the room exploded with the sound of a pack of snarling, angry dogs. The silent screams continued, and then she lost control of her bladder, just as she had when she was attacked by her neighbor’s pit bull at the age of nine.
Mommy’s coming, Kimi. Mommy’s coming, Kimi. Mommy’s coming, Kimi. Mommy’s coming, Kimi.
And then, a voice. “Are you ready to tell us the truth?”
The lights snapped on, and the barking stopped abruptly. Rachael looked around the room. No dogs. Just the two men in black.
The taller one—the leader—peeled away the duct tape and removed the ball gag from her mouth.
“Are you ready to tell us the truth?” he asked again.
Her wrists and ankles were bleeding, and her neck was rubbed raw from the chains. “I did tell you the truth,” she whimpered.
“No, you didn’t,” he said, opening a bottle of Poland Spring water. He tilted the bottle to his lips and gulped down half of it.
Rachael stared at the water.
“You look thirsty,” he said. “The rest of this is yours. Just tell me who killed Kimi.”
“I swear I didn’t kill Kimi. I loved her. I would never hurt my only child.”
“Oh yes. You were Mother of the Year,” he said. “Here’s first prize.”
He held up the water bottle and turned it upside down.
Rachael sobbed as the water splashed onto the concrete floor. “The jury believed that I didn’t do it. Why can’t you?”
“Juries are stupid,” he said. “And in a hurry to get home. We’re neither.”
The shorter one—the nicer one—pointed to a video camera on a tripod in front of her. “Just talk to the camera. Tell us what really happened, and we’ll give you a hot meal, lots of cool, cool water, and then you can sleep.”
“You mean then you can kill me,” Rachael said.
“True,” the leader said. “Death is inevitable. But pain and suffering are optional. Here—let me demonstrate.”
He had a wooden box in his hand. It reminded Rachael of a music box her mother had when she was a little girl.
He opened it, and she almost expected it to play “Irish Lullaby.” But there was no music. There was just a strange metal contraption inside. She’d never seen anything like it, but she knew it was evil.
“It’s called a choke pear,” he said. “Some call it the pear of anguish. This one is from the sixteenth century. I bought it on eBay for twelve hundred bucks.”
Rachael squeezed her eyes shut.
“Open them,” he said slowly, “or I will open them for you.”
She opened her eyes. The box was on the floor, and now he had the pear-shaped thing in his hands.
“Now open your mouth.”
She shook her head.
He nodded to his partner.
The nice one pinched her nostrils and forced her mouth open, and the other slid the metal pear inside.
“Now here’s the beauty of this little pear,” he said. “The stem is really a corkscrew, and when I twist the spiral rod in the center—”
He gave the corkscrew two quick turns, and Rachael gagged and screamed at the same time.
“Relax,” he said. “This is only a demo. It won’t hurt. Not this time.”
He twisted the corkscrew in the opposite direction and slid the pear from her mouth. Rachael gasped at the air.
The man in black smiled. “All I did was turn it twice,” he said. “Like this.”
He turned the corkscrew twice, and Rachael watched as the pear opened at the bottom and four spoonlike segments began to spread out.
“Now watch what happens when I turn it again. And again. And again.”
The iron lobes spread out even farther, leaving no doubt as to what damage the device could inflict.
“How many was that?” he asked. “Five turns? You should see it at ten. Or fifteen. It’s diabolical, but you know those crazy punishing medieval judges—they couldn’t wait to use it.”
“I didn’t kill my daughter,” Rachael said. “I swear.”
“Hold that thought. I’m not quite finished.”
He held the pear up to her face. “Here’s the genius of this little beauty. It’s a multi-orifice device. So if you were a blasphemous heretic, it would go inside your lying mouth. Male homosexuals were punished with the anal pear. And women who fornicated with Satan…well, like I said—it works in any orifice.”
A cell phone rang, and the man patted his pocket.
“Something for you to ponder while I take this call.”