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Continued from page 90….
Sunday, July 13th, 1986, 10:52 A.M.
Although Kathy was no stranger to unnerving or harrowing occurrences, the fear that she was feeling at the moment was unlike anything she had ever experienced in her life. Simply put, she knew that her life was in danger, as her trembling legs and body were clearly exhibiting. There had to be a reason why these brutish thugs had dragged her halfway around the world to this God-forsaken island, where, according to Greek mythology, the poet Sappho and her lovely nymphets, romped about the landscape uninhibited. Kathy would gladly swap her current situation for a bout with ancient bimbos for sure, but was certain that was not in her immediate future.
It couldn’t be for her just to reunite with Charlotte. That didn’t make any sense.
No, these people were after money, plain and simple. Kathy was sure of that. In fact, it was the one thing she figured upon that might save her life. Maybe they would just graciously accept a payoff and let her and Charlotte go.
The flight from The States was brutal and unrelenting. They had crammed poor Kathy into the back of a medium-sized cargo plane and handcuffed her ankle to a metal link attached to the wall of the plane. The chain was long enough for her to move around as she was able to sit on top of some wooden crates that were scattered about the back of the cabin. They also gave her a mattress for her to lie down on and sleep, but sleep was completely out of the question. Kathy only laid there and cried as she kept hoping that each minute that passed would be the worst of it, and that the eventual outcome would bring some relief.
But now they were unlocking a heavy, wooden door and preparing to lead her down a concrete staircase into what could only be described as a dark and dank, 18th- century dungeon. In fact, Kathy spoke up and fittingly referred to it as such.
“You’re not honestly planning on putting me in some kind of dungeon, are you?” she asked.
“Welcome to your new home, Miss Valentine,” one of the men spoke. The man had a Middle-Eastern accent, possibly Turkish, that crawled right up Kathy’s proverbial spine.
“I can’t do this,” Kathy pleaded.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” said the woman who was portraying Charlotte.
It had been a long thirty-seven hours since the encounter in the authentic Charlotte’s office in Los Angeles, and it appeared to Kathy as if Fake Charlotte had time to wipe off most of her makeup. Either that, or it was coming of on it’s own. In any event, now that the sunlight was hitting her face at just the right angle, Kathy could see how few similarities there were to her and the actual Charlotte herself. Kathy instantly surmised that the resemblance was purely psychological. Who would ever suspect that the woman walking around as Charlotte was a body-double?
“Absolutely.” said the other man, also with an accent. “You will love it… All the comforts of home,” he stated, subsequently breaking out into laughter.
As Kathy slowly walked down the curved staircase, she was immediately inundated with the smell of body odor. Something that, needless to say, did not improve her already gloomy outlook. She could see the patches of paint that had peeled off from the walls and the pock-marks of concrete that had eroded away and dropped to the floor in the same manner. There was old furniture and debris scattered about, with crates and boxes piled up in a completely disorganized fashion. Kathy also recognized the smell of dead animals, probably mice hidden underneath all of the shit.
All of a sudden, a voice called out from one of the rooms that Kathy could observe.
“Is there someone else down here?” she asked.
“Of course,” one of her captors answered. “You have neighbors… Don’t worry.. they will keep you company.”
Aside from realizing now where the body odor was coming from, Kathy was terrified that she was going to be thrust into a room with a strange man.
“I do have my own accommodations, don’t I?” she asked, managing to conjure up a smidge of her beautiful sense of humor.
“Of course,” the man reiterated. “All of our rooms are a single here at Shangri-La,”
Fake Charlotte opened up the door to Kathy’s new digs and motioned for her to step inside.
“There ya’ go, Kathy. It’s all yours,” she said.
“Don’t call me by my first name, bitch. We ain’t buddies,” Kathy growled.
Fake Charlotte stared her down as if she were actually offended by Kathy’s words.
“Just get in the room, Jaco,” she ordered.
Although Kathy was flattered that this crazy lunatic kept making comparisons between her and the legendary bassist, this was hardly the time to be sentimental about anything. She also wondered how a woman like that could possibly have heard of the man.
“When do we eat? I’m starving,” Kathy asked.
“You’ll eat in a couple of hours,” Fake Charlotte replied.
“It will be delicious. You’ll love it,” said one of the thugs.
“When do I get to see Charlotte?” asked Kathy.
“In due time,” Fake Charlotte answered back. “Mr. Big will decide that.”
Kathy watched as Fake Charlotte closed the door on her. In the background, she could see the face of the man who informed her of her upcoming lunch. It became a chilling image etched in Kathy’s mind for the next several moments.
As she looked around, Kathy could see that her new room was anything but luxurious. There was a cot with a blanket and a pillow. In one corner, there was a round table with a lamp and an ashtray. There was no overhead light. In the other corner, a dresser drawer sat with three drawers affixed. What would she do with that? Kathy wondered. Will they give me some clothes?
The only amenity that gave Kathy any flicker of hope was an old transistor radio that sat on top of the dresser. But those hopes were quickly dashed when she realized there would probably be no English-speaking stations anywhere on the dial. Kathy stared down at the floor in dismay.
She turned and looked at the ashtray.
Even though she had quit smoking, she knew that she would fire one up in a heartbeat if it were available. These were dire circumstances.
Then, a voice came from a crack in the wall over by the cot.