Spoiled Heiress Gets Kidnapped Ch. 01

Again, just coincidence but on Sunday night I was getting into bed, glanced out of my bedroom window and saw another purple van driving by, illuminated by the street light across the road. Maybe there was a new type of van on the market purple in color, or maybe having seen one and registered it as unusual, I now saw purple vans whereas before I hadn't noticed them before?

I looked at the latest purple van as it slowly went on its way, noticing that the windows were tinted. It also stood out not just because of the bright purple paintwork, but because of unusual artwork on the side. There was a bright rainbow, a bright green anti-nuclear symbol, an enormous yellow smiling sun and frowning white moon and various other hippie-like motifs, all in a variety of psychedelic colors.

The van drove away and I continued on my walk to the park, passing a man in a red phone booth trying to get the phone to accept his money and getting frustrated. I had no such problems with public phone boxes, I had a mobile phone which while big and bulky, was very convenient. Two good-looking young policemen passed by, both Bobbies in their tall hats, and I could see they liked the look of me. And I always liked a young man in uniform.

Arriving at the park, I took a walk around the lake, with plenty of white swans, geese and ducks swimming around. Sitting on the bench, I pulled up the antenna on my phone and spoke to my friend Sophie, confirming the details of our girls' afternoon of lunch followed by shopping.

"See you at one then, Sophie," I said, finishing my call and returning the phone to my bag. I purchased a bottle of water at the kiosk, and drinking this took another walk through the nicely landscaped gardens, bees buzzing around the flowers before taking their pollen to their hives probably high in the oak trees, which were showing their new foliage after the passage of the English winter into spring.

I exited the park at a different gate to the one I entered. Some rooks flew by squawking and into the yew trees that grew at this entrance. I looked at the large black birds up in the trees, but stopped short at what I saw under the trees. It was a purple van again, and definitely the same one that had passed by earlier as it had all the distinctive hippie type motifs all over it.

Again, I didn't think anything of it. The people who owned the van were probably hippies, or maybe backpackers from Australia or New Zealand who were in the UK for a working holiday and had hired it, and were enjoying a day at the park.

I walked forward, the yews casting eerie shadows over the pavement, intermittent sunlight flicking through the foliage and it was always quieter in this street, nobody around today at least not in sight. The only sound was the rooks calling in the yew trees. One of my cousins was afraid of yew trees, she found them un-nerving for some reason, but I thought this nonsense.

However, maybe I should have heeded my cousin's disquiet. As I drew level with the purple van, I was adjacent to some bushes, when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I turned, and immediately saw two tall figures running at me, black wearing balaclavas.

As they grabbed me I tried to hit, kick, scratch, elbow and bite my attackers, but they were too strong for me despite my best efforts, and as I tried to scream or call for help another assailant came at me from behind, grabbed me and forced a cloth gag into my mouth, tying it tight.

I continued to struggle against my abductors, and my bottle of water fell to the ground in the process along with my mobile phone, which slipped out of my shoulder bag. I tried desperately to escape but it was to no avail as it was me - a young woman - clearly against three men, maybe more. Why couldn't I have encountered the two handsome young policemen on my way out of the park rather than my way into it I lamented?

A burlap sack was thrown over my head, but it had a hole in it large enough to see where I was being dragged, and that was into the back of the purple van. I wasn't going to accept my abduction without a fight and continued to struggle and try to yell through my gag, but three men onto one woman was not a contest, and soon my abductors had me in the back of the vehicle right where they wanted me.

Two of the men jumped into the back with me, one holding me down while the other gave instructions to the third man in a very strong Cockney accent. "Don't just stand their gawping Dwayne you prat, get in the fucking front and drive!"

"Yeah, right Rod," came the voice of the third man, his voice also Cockney.

The rear doors of the van slammed shut, the engine started and the van drove away at speed with a screech of tyres.

"I don't fucking believe it," bellowed Rod. He banged on the partition that divided the rear of the van from the front. "Dwayne, fucking slow down!"

"Why's that Rod? Don't you want to get away fast?"

"Because if you speed, then the fucking pigs are going to pull us over."

"Yeah, and I'm out of points."

"Jesus, its fucking hard being part of this fucking family!" roared Rod. "Yeah, you driving on a suspended license is bad Dwayne. But if the pigs look in the back of the van and see what's in here, it'll be a whole lot fucking worse. And get that fucking mask off, if you driving like that isn't going to attract the filth, that balaclava sure as fuck will."

"Sorry Rod, didn't think of that," said Dwayne.

"You never think at all," grumbled Rod.

The second man who until now hadn't spoken until now as he was too busy holding me down as I struggled, did just this, his voice also Cockney. "When you two have finished gabbing, you wanna give me a hand here Rod? No hurry, just whenever it fucking suits you."

"Yeah, okay Nick keep your fucking hair on."

"Jesus, this one's a fighter," observed Rod as he helped Nick bind my hands and feet with rope. I continued to struggle and fight against my binds.

"Yeah, she's trouble, aren't you darling?" Nick asked me.

With my hands and feet bound, a gag in my mouth and a sack over my head I could not do anything to escape, but I was stubborn and defiant, and continued to wriggle and try to call out for help.

"Shut up and keep still bitch, if you know what's fucking good for you," Rod ordered me.

I did as Rod said, not because I was obeying his instructions but because it was pointless to waste energy and I couldn't escape.

I should have been absolutely terrified and in tears given I had just been kidnapped, but I was neither. For some reason I felt angry and inconvenienced more than anything, and even at this early stage confident whatever was going on would soon be resolved by my Daddy and the police. I was as pretty white rich girl from an influential family, my parents friends with the Chief Constable as well as the relevant Ministers and as soon as I was reported missing I would be top priority for the police. To top it off there wasn't a price Daddy wouldn't pay to get me back, presuming I had been snatched for ransom, not that I thought Daddy would lose any money out of this. And my attackers didn't seem all that clever, given the way they squabbled and the one who seemed to be the leader kept yelling at the one in the front.

Instead I kept calm and made mental notes of the kidnappers' names - Rod, Nick and Dwayne - and that all had Cockney accents, placing them squarely from London's East End. They squabbled a lot, obviously not well organized. And from what Rod had said earlier, he and Dwayne at least were related. Another mistake. Given that they had abducted me in a distinctive bright purple van covered in hippie symbols that stood out like a sore thumb, I didn't think I had been kidnapped my master criminals. Dwayne in particular seemed pretty dim.

I of course could not see where we were going as the van went on its way. Sometimes we would go fast, other times it would slow down or stop in traffic. Rod and Nick kept quiet, but when the van slowed down to a near halt something seemed to raise Rod's ire.

"Dwayne, what the fuck was that?" he called out.

"Stop sign," came the reply from the drivers' seat.

"Well why the fuck didn't you stop?"

"Did stop."

"No, you slowed down but you didn't come to a complete stop."

"I thought that was the same Rod."

"For fuck's Dwayne!" yelled Rod. "You want the cops to stop us for running a fucking stop sign? Just drive proper next time! Fuck! If I was kicking you in the balls, would you like me to slow down or stop?"

The journey continued, and I had no idea where we were, how much time had gone by or what distance we had travelled when the van stopped. Soon it came to a stop, and began to reverse. Nick opened the back of the van and jumped out, and I heard the sound of a garage roller door being opened. Nick then seemed to be directing Dwayne in reversing the van down what I presumed was a driveway.

The entire process didn't seem to go very well, Dwayne having to go forward and back many times, Nick yelling instructions and Rod, still in the back of the van losing his patience very quickly, Nick likewise losing his temper when Rod shouted at him.

"If you two weren't my brothers, I'd fucking punch you both in the face," yelled Nick. "How about you get in the van and back the fucking thing in?"

"I've got to watch this little tart," yelled Rod, despite the fact that I was trussed like a turkey, bound and gagged and in a sack, and obviously not going anywhere. "You back the fucking van in."

For some reason the trio of twits didn't actually change drivers but eventually Dwayne successfully backed the van in. I heard the garage door close, and within seconds I was being manhandled out of the van, and into what I presumed was a house. It didn't smell very nice wherever I was, the air stale and damp.

I was manhandled down a hallway and determined not to let my kidnappers win, struggled against them all the way.

"Quit it, you little brat," yelled Rod, before he and his brothers thrust me into a room. They followed me in, and closed the door, before sitting me down on the bed and removing the sack from over my head.

Despite wearing masks when abducting me from outside the park in London, the trio of kidnappers hadn't thought disguising their identities from me - their victim - was a good idea. I could see their faces clearly, and they looked somewhat similar, and had confirmed that they were all brothers by their squabbling in the van during the drive here.

I glowered at them through furious blue eyes. Even though I was kidnapped, tied up, gagged and God only knew where in England, I was still more angry than afraid. I looked at my kidnappers' faces in detail. Two of the men I guessed were about 23 or 24, their brown hair unkempt, their eyes brown. One of the men was clean-shaven, the other had a goatee, and both were reasonably tall, probably around six feet. They looked like scum who belonged in a council housing estate or tower block in the East End, which is probably where they came from.

The third man was younger, probably about the same age as me. He was taller than the other two brothers, and very good looking, definitely not as rough as the older brothers. It was a shame he had kidnapped me, he looked like just my type if I fancied getting fucked by someone lower than my social status.

The youngest of the brothers spoke up first. "She don't look too happy, she looks real mad."

Goatee-beard brother was the one to respond. "Of course she don't look happy Dwayne, you fucking idiot. We fucking kidnapped her. You think she's gonna be happy about it?"

"Well don't get mad at me Rod, I was just saying ..." Dwayne protested.

"Yeah, well don't fucking say anything Dwayne, fucking shut it and stop giving me the fucking shits," snapped Rod.

I continued to glare at the brothers, but made sure that I didn't make it clear I was making mental notes. I now knew their names, could put faces to the names and would be easily able to identify them to the police when I got out of this situation. But I didn't want them to know that.

Dwayne fell silent, sulking a bit while the other two brothers approached me. I continued to glare at them, my expression most unwelcoming.

"Relax darling, we're just going to remove your gag for you," said Nick, reaching behind my head and removing it.

As soon as the cloth was out of my mouth, I spat out, "Who are you? What are you doing? Why did you kidnap me?"

"It don't matter who we are darling," said Rod. "It's you what matters."

"Yeah, we know all about you," said Nick.

I regarded them haughtily. "What could you possibly know about me?"

"You're Harriet Holmes, the daughter of Keith Holmes, the rich guy," said Rod.

"And therefore, you're our ticket to early retirement," said Nick.

I probably shouldn't have been a smart-arse while tied up with my kidnappers in the room, but could not resist it. "Oh no, you've got it wrong. I'm not Harriet Holmes at all, I just look like her, people are always saying, and for some reason I just picked up a posh accent as a kid. Really, I'm a single mother on benefits from a council estate who was just running an errand, and now I need to pick my kids up from Mum's. Can you let me go please?"

"Oh, don't talk rubbish sweetheart, we know who you are and who your rich Daddy is," sneered Rod. "We've been watching you for ages."

"We saw you with your precious Daddy last week, so don't lie," said Nick.

"Yeah, we been following you in the van," cut in Dwayne.

"The purple van, oh yes, that's right, I saw a purple van a few times in the last week," I said, regarding the young men with a smug expression. "I'll give you some free advice, it you want to stalk and abduct girls, use a white van or another common color van to do it. Seriously, you abducted me in a purple van with hippie symbols all over it? Talk about stupid."

"Oh shut up princess, what the fuck do you know about it?" growled Rod.

"I know enough not to go around abducting people in bright purple vans that stand out," I said. "Please tell me it isn't your own van?"

"Oh, don't talk rubbish, of course it ain't our van," said Nick.

"Yeah, we nicked it," cut in Dwayne.

I looked at Dwayne. "You stole it? I could have sworn I heard you with keys."

"Yeah, it belonged to this old hippie guy," said Dwayne. "He would leave his car keys on a table just inside the front door, all we had to do was smash the glass, grab the keys and pinch the van. Easy."

Rod glared at his brother, while Nick buried his head in his hands. "Any more crimes we've committed over the years, just feel free to tell her all about it Dwayne. Anyway, enough about the fucking van. We've got her, we're going to be rich, and that's all what matters."

"Yes, about that, I presume that you're going to issue some sort of ransom demand to my parents for my safe return?" I asked.

"Right in one sweetheart, we send a letter to your parents telling them we want three million pounds for your release or you're going in the Thames," said Rod.

"Well, I wouldn't want to end up floating face down in the Thames," I said, putting an innocent look on my face and flattering my eyelashes. "So, how about you send your ransom demand to my parents, you get your three millions pounds and I get to go home? Easy for everyone."

"Yeah, you'd like that wouldn't you princess?" said Rod. "But it doesn't work like that. We're not sending any ransom demand to your parents."

I raised my eyebrows. "Well, how do you expect to get your money then if you don't send a ransom? And only three million pounds? Do you have any idea who my father really is? I'm worth way more than that."

"You shouldn't flatter yourself darling, but yes, you are worth more than that," said Rod.

"So why not send the ransom now and get your money?"

"Because were gonna wait a week at least, so your parents and family are good and worried about you and will pay more," said Nick. "But then, we're not going to pick up the money, we're going to send another letter to your parents telling them that the price has gone up and its now six million pounds to get you released."

"Then when we don't show up to collect the six million pounds, we're going to send another letter to your parents, telling them its twelve million pounds or you get fished out of the Thames, and your Daddy gets to see his precious little princess in a body bag at the morgue," said Rod. "Then we collect the twelve million, split it evenly between us and we all live happily ever after."

"Yeah, I can't wait until I get three million pounds," said Dwayne, smiling in anticipation.

"You mean four million pounds," I said.

Dwayne looked confused. "No, three million."

"Twelve million pounds divided three ways is four million pounds each, Dwayne," I assured him.

"But Rod and Nick said ..." began Dwayne, who looked most worried, before Rod cut him off.

"You misheard Dwayne, we said four million. You didn't hear right as usual."

"I misheard?" Dwayne looked at his two brothers.

"That's right," said Rod.

I sat smirking on the bed, and this attracted Nick's attention and anger. "What the fuck are you smirking at you stupid little tart? You should learn keep that big mouth of yours shut unless you want to end up getting chucked in the Thames and then a body bag for your rich Daddy to identify at the morgue."

"You and that brother of yours seem obsessed with me going in the Thames and then a body bag," I said to Nick. "Like I said, I don't want to drown in the Thames, my family and friends don't want me to drown in the Thames and you don't want me to drown in the Thames either."

"Who says we don't?" sneered Rod.

I remained icy calm. "Because then it would be willful murder, and that's life in prison, no parole. Do you have any idea what happens in prison to people who murder 19-year-old girls, especially rich and pretty 19-year-old blonde girls?"

Dwayne pointed at his brothers. "They should know, they've both been in the nick. Me, I haven't been to jail, but I went to reform school once. I didn't like reform school. Everyone always shouted at me."

"Shut up, Dwayne," shouted Rod and Nick in unison, showing that Dwayne's lot in life hadn't improved since reform school.

"Well, if you did murder me you would be locked up with all the nonces and perverts for the rest of your lives," I told them. "Plus, there's your consciences and if you believe in all that religious stuff when you die in prison, you'd be going to hell for eternal damnation. All of which you can avoid by not murdering me. How about you write out your ransom demands right now and send it to my parents and get this all sorted out?"

"We're waiting at least a week," said Rod bluntly. "It's not up to you, Princess."

"Rod, do you know what's going to happen if you wait a week?" I asked. "People are going to miss me. At the moment, I'm supposed to be having lunch and shopping with my friends in Knightsbridge. They'll be wondering where I am, they're probably calling me on my mobile phone, which will be ringing on the ground when it fell out my bag when you grabbed me at the park. Then there's my cleaning lady, I told her I would be back before she finished, she'll be puzzled at least that I didn't return. I'm meeting up with a friend tonight, I called him this morning ..."

"A boyfriend hey?" cut in Nick, grinning. "Whey-hey-hey!"

"Oh, grow up Nick," I said, glaring at him. "The point is I'm going to be missed. Tomorrow, I've got a dental check-up booked. I won't be there. In the afternoon, I'm meeting my mother and aunt and we're having high tea in the city and after that I'm spending the evening at Mum and Daddy's place. So, I'm going to be missed and people will be worried."

"Yeah, that's the point," said Rod.

"Exactly, but they won't know what happened to me," I pointed out. "I could have been in an accident, have amnesia, eloped, been murdered, abducted or committed suicide and many other reasons people vanish. They will call the police to search for me, the media will get involved and it will be front page news before you even send out the first ransom. And even if this crazy plan works, how are you going to collect your ransom money with the police all over the case and it being all over the media?"