The Piggy Farmer (The Barrington Patch Book 3)

by Emmy Ellis

  Jimmy swallowed. Joined her. If his breathing could just go back to normal, that’d be grand.

  A car rounded the corner, further spiking his adrenaline; it flooded his system and threatened to send him keeling over. The small runaround parked beside Jimmy’s, the driver’s door opening, the interior light splashing on. It was Ted and Felix all right, men people wouldn’t have thought were involved in this side of the Grafton business.

  Then again, look how tight they were with Lenny.

  He should have known they’d be in on shit to this degree. Hindsight was so spiteful the way it taunted you for not seeing, not putting two and two together at the time, and it laughed at him for being such an oblivious fool.

  The old men approached, Felix standing next to Jimmy, Ted by Cassie. All four of them stared into the boot, Jimmy hating what was beneath that material—not Jason, although he disliked him, but the body, the mess.

  “Thank God you saw the bleedin’ light with this one.” Ted poked a finger towards the shrouded Jason, clearly visible from the glow in the boot. “I’m glad you rang. I’m more than happy to see what Marlene does to him.”

  Fucking hell, does she mutilate dead bodies or what?

  “You never did like him, did you?” Felix said.

  Ted shook his head. “He was a trumped-up twat like his mother.” He nudged Cassie. “No offence, like, but why your old man thought it was a good idea for Jason to be your right hand is beyond me. Trying to take over the patch. What a dickhead.”

  “We’ve got Jimmy to thank for getting the confession.” Cassie patted Jimmy’s shoulder. “And he held up well at the squat.”

  “Champion.” Ted smiled at him. “I like you, Jim, always have. How’s Shirl?”

  Was that some kind of threat? Jimmy wasn’t sure how to take it so nodded. “She’s all right, ta. You?”

  “All the better for being here, lad.” Ted rubbed his latex-gloved hands. “Come on then, let’s get going.”

  Turned out Jimmy didn’t need to help after all. Old they might be, but Ted and Felix lifted the body bag out and all but threw it onto the trolley. Jimmy winced at how that must hurt, then remembered Jason wouldn’t feel a thing. The cousins manoeuvred the trolley into the factory, whistling in harmony, and Cassie closed the boot, the light dousing.

  “This is usually their job, taking people to Marlene,” she said. “And they dispose of the bodies afterwards. Anyroad, like Ted just said, come on, let’s get going.”

  He followed her into the factory, hating being there, asking himself if he’d fallen asleep at the squat and was only dreaming, but the floor was too solid beneath his feet, the surroundings too real. Cassie closed the door and led the way to another one, which stood open. Inside a small room, Ted and Felix stood by a steel machine. Jimmy trailed Cassie inside and gazed around. A sink unit was off to the right, and some tall plastic boxes with lids stacked on top had been placed by a thingy (he couldn’t think what it might be called, his brain blank) that stuck out of the machine. A steel hose? On top was a large chute with steps leading up to it.

  Where was Marlene?

  “Okay, let’s have a gander at him.” Ted pulled the zip down on the body bag and parted the fronts so the space created a white elm leaf shape. “Oh, fuck me, would you look at the state of him.” He laughed, his cheeks going red, his grey fringe wafting.

  Felix leant forward. “You used your weapon again, Cass.”

  She nodded. “Of course I did. He needed the pain.”

  There she is, all casual again.

  “That must have been right sore.” Felix grimaced and squinted. “What’s up with his lip?”

  Cassie shrugged. “I split it with a barb and sewed it back up.”

  Felix shook his head. “Blimey, girl, I worry about you.”

  “No need.”

  “Um, what else did you do to him?” Felix bent even closer and inspected the shin and sliced trousers. “That’s a fair-sized hole, that is.”

  “Eight-inch nail. There’s holes in his arm, hand, and heart an’ all.” Cassie folded her arms. Was that a defensive move or one that said: And? I have to answer to you because?

  Ted laughed even more. “Good. He deserved the agony. Horrible little twat.”

  Felix wiped his brow. “You shot him. With a nail gun.” He closed his eyes for a second. “Does Gina know?”

  “Not yet.” Cassie tapped her foot. “Are you trying to tell me something or just being fucking nosy?”

  Felix held both hands up. “No, no, only asking, making conversation, like.”

  “Probably better if you don’t.” Cassie gave one of her weird tight smiles. “I’m not in the mood.”

  Ted and Felix stared at each other, raised their shoulders simultaneously, and got to work, taking Jason out then undressing him, Ted using a penknife to cut around the material near the nail heads in the arm, then slicing the rest away. He used pliers to wrench the nails out. All the while, Jimmy watched, everything so surreal. And Marlene still hadn’t turned up. What was keeping her? If the old men dumped the bodies, why did the woman even need to be here?

  A naked Jason wasn’t a sight Jimmy ever thought he’d see, the traitor’s clothes and the nails in a pile on the floor.

  “Oh, he’s hairless all over.” Cassie shuddered.

  “Even round his meat and two veg!” Ted roared with laughter.

  “I bet he’s even had his arsehole waxed,” Felix said.

  Jimmy couldn’t get over how they acted so normal.

  Cassie swept the clothes and nails up and stuffed them into a carrier bag she got out from under the sink, the supermarket logo on the side, something so familiar but alien at the same time. Ted gripped Jason’s ankles, and Felix tucked his hands beneath the armpits. Felix walked backwards up the steps then moved to the side to feed Jason’s head and shoulders into the chute.

  “Go on, fire her up,” he said.

  Jason’s going in there?

  Cassie pressed a button, and the machine rumbled to life, something grinding inside. Ted went up two steps, pushing Jason farther until his arse sat on the lip of the chute. Together, they gave him a shove.

  “That’s it, Marlene girl, you eat him up,” Ted shouted.

  The machine was Marlene? What?

  Jimmy turned to Cassie, who smiled.

  “It never was a woman,” she yelled over the din. “People just assumed.”

  Jimmy glanced back at the chute. It had flesh and blood on the inside, spatter from where the machine—Marlene!—went to work. The heels of Jason’s feet rested on the lip now, and Marlene’s sound changed—fuck, some kind of grinding was going on. Cutting up his head? Jimmy heaved, his hand over his mouth, and then movement to his left grabbed him, and he stared in horror at mince coming out of the thingy.

  Oh my fucking God.

  He ran to the sink and spewed, his mind spinning, his heart racing, coffee the first to emerge, then bile burning his throat.

  Cassie’s loud laughter floated over, and he knew then, without a shadow of a doubt, that sometimes, she really was mad.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Barrington Life

  MISSING MAN ALERT!

  Karen Scholes – All Things Crime in our Time

  Sharon Barnett – Chief Editor

  EDITION ONE

  Me and Sharon reckon this is the easiest way to let you all know things at once regarding crime and such on the estate. Saves us spreading the gossip, and I’ve never been a fan of Chinese whispers. Whenever something really important goes on, we’ll be posting these flyers from now on. Dunno why we didn’t think of this before. Mind, the expense of getting them printed is a bit much, so we won’t be doing it often — at least not until we can afford one of those fancy computers.

  I was in Betty’s Blooms the other day, and she told me some fella has gone missing. About a month ago, it was — well, more like five weeks now — a bloke from Yorkshire; young lad, dark hair, blue eyes, about twenty or so. He’d been l
iving on the Barrington, renting a room at Vera’s, like, so that makes it our business. He’s called Steve, by the way, no idea what his surname is.

  Anyroad, his brother came to look for him because the family hadn’t heard owt for weeks, and he asked our Lou at Betty’s Blooms if she was seeing him, because that’s what this Steve had said. Well, Lou only knew him from when he’d gone into the florist’s to buy flowers, and she certainly wasn’t his girlfriend.

  So, the point of this flyer is, if you’ve seen a man around with really blue eyes, and you made friends with him or whatever, if you know owt, contact the police. It doesn’t sit well that someone’s gone missing from our estate, so let’s do the decent thing and band together to find Steve so his family can get answers.

  Incensed at her name being in the flyer, Lou scrunched it up and threw it in the bin. Saturdays were meant to be for relaxing and catching up on her washing, not getting angry and wanting to strangle Karen and Sharon. Who they thought they were she didn’t know. The way they gadded about on the estate as if they owned it got right on her nerves, but people appeared to be listening to the pair of silly cows, doing whatever they told them.

  Well, Lou wasn’t one of those people, especially when any poking about into Stalker’s disappearance meant her and Doreen could be right up the swanny.

  She called out to Janice and Deb that she was off out and left the house, storming up the road towards Doreen’s mam’s. Yes, they’d promised to keep apart, but this visit was needed, as was the one Doreen had made to Betty’s. It was all very well saying they’d avoid each other—which was stupid anyroad because who’d suspect them of murder?—but when shit like this happened, they had to speak face to face.

  In Doreen’s road, she took a deep breath and marched up to the front door. Penny answered, Dor’s mother, her smile bright, her arms held out in welcome. Odd. Lou smiled and reared back to avoid being grabbed for a hug.

  Penny lowered her arms. “How are you, duck?”

  “All right, ta. Is Dor in?”

  “In her room, as usual.”

  Penny stepped back, and Lou entered, grabbed by Penny anyroad and squeezed too hard.

  “We’ve missed you,” she said. “Why did you stop coming round?” Then she whispered in her ear, “Did you two fall out?”

  Lou extracted herself and moved to the safe distance of the stairs. “No, we haven’t had a row or owt. I was a bit busy, that’s all.”

  “Still, you’re here now.” Penny closed the door and made to approach.

  Lou skittered up the stairs, unnerved by Penny’s unusual display of emotion. She’d always been brusque before, and Lou suspected it was all a play so she could whisper what she had. Of course it would look weird that Lou no longer came here now Dor was back. She’d been here so often in the past her absence was bound to be noted.

  On the landing, she breathed deep again and knocked on the bedroom door.

  “I said I was having a nap,” Dor shouted.

  “It’s me.” Lou turned the handle and poked her head inside.

  Dor scrabbled to sit up, flapping her hand for Lou to come in. She did and, door closed, sat on the bed.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Dor kept her voice low.

  “Didn’t you read the flyer the two bitches sent?”

  Dor smiled. “Which two bitches? There are loads on this estate.”

  “Karen and Sharon.”

  Dor shook her head. “No. What are they sending flyers for?”

  “Apparently, it’s a new thing they’re doing when anything criminal happens. Karen moaned about the printing costs, so hopefully we won’t get another one for a while.”

  “Crime?” Dor paled and darted a glance at the door. “Whisper in case Mam comes nosing.”

  “It had Stalker in it.”

  “What?” Dor shrieked then slapped a hand over her mouth.

  “You said to whisper, you silly cow.”

  “I know, but… What were they saying about him?”

  “That he’s missing and his brother came to find him, and if anyone knows owt, they should go to the police.” Lou thought of what state the body would be in by now at the bottom of the well. “The smell’s gone and—”

  “So you did smell it.”

  Lou shrugged. “Only a bit.”

  “You made me think I’d imagined it.”

  Lou huffed. “I had to calm you down somehow, didn’t I?” She sighed. “What if this doesn’t go away? What if all the residents start poking about? The neighbours either side of me… What if they smelt him, too, and realise it was strange, then call the pigs? What if they come round and ask to look in the well? The water board’s already been out for blocked drains, but they didn’t find anything, obviously.”

  “You told me not to worry about that when I brought it up, so take your own advice. Have the police spoken to you yet?”

  “Yes, at Betty’s. We gave the same story, and they seemed okay with that. Bob Holworth, it was, and you know he fancies me, so it won’t go anywhere, I bet.”

  “It had better not.” Dor bit her lip. “I have nightmares every so often. Do you?”

  Lou nodded.

  Dor swiped a hand down her face. “Will it ever go away, what we did?”

  “We need to hope so, because I can’t keep living like this.”

  Dor hung her head. “Me neither.”

  * * * *

  PC Bob Holworth didn’t know what to do next. Those two pains up his arse, Karen Scholes and Sharon Barnett, had offered to help him with that man going missing, but nothing had come of their good turn. He’d been surprised they’d mentioned doing a flyer, considering they didn’t like ‘pigs’ as he’d heard them refer to the police one night in The Donny. Were they up to something? Did he need to be on his guard?

  The thing was, Bob had been warned by The Pains to mind his own business when it came to scraps on the estate—or anything else for that matter. Then there was that bloke, an up-and-coming gangster type, Lenny Grafton, having a word in Bob’s shell-like that things were going to change one day, and unless Bob toed the line, there’d be trouble.

  What that change was and when it would happen hadn’t been revealed, and Bob didn’t really want to know. The problem was, the Barrington was his beat route, as well as the town centre, and he couldn’t very well look the other way too often else his sergeant would wonder why the estate had suddenly calmed down.

  But on saying that… Bob could make out he had it so under control that no one dared break the law anymore. Then, went this Lenny fella did whatever it was he had planned, the sergeant wouldn’t have to know anything about it.

  Nodding, Bob left Vera’s B&B, content he’d looked down all avenues and couldn’t proceed further. Steve Zander was just one of many missing people in the country, and his family would have to accept he’d taken himself off to start again elsewhere.

  Chuffed he’d put that episode to bed—well, almost, he had paperwork to fill out yet—he checked his watch and, seeing as it was five minutes after his shift ended, he got in the patrol car and drove back to the station.

  Case closed.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Cassie woke after sleeping for twelve hours straight. Groggy, she got out of bed and went into the bathroom to shower and whatnot. Once dressed, she met Mam in the kitchen and sat at the island. Mam took a plate of full English out of the microwave and placed it in front of Cassie.

  “I heard you get up so warmed it for you.” Mam smiled and picked up a cup of coffee, passing that along, too. “A late night for you then.”

  Cassie nodded and cut some bacon. “I killed Jason. Took him to Marlene. Ted and Felix dealt with him after that. Jimmy was with me.”

  “How did he cope?” Mam propped a hip against the island.

  “Pretty well, considering. Until he puked when the mince came out of the machine.” Cassie ate the bacon, unperturbed that she chewed cooked meat while discussing raw.

  Mam chuckled. “P
oor sod. He’ll get used to it. I take it you will be using him in future.”

  Cassie nodded. “That reminds me, I have to nip twenty K round to him in a bit. I’ll get it from of the safe on my way out.”

  “Ah, the sum for murder. I thought you said you’d killed Jason.”

  “I did, but I wanted Jimmy to see what he could earn just by being involved. Once he’s done whatever he needs to with that money, plus the five hundred a week for being my ears, he’ll want more, no matter what he has to do to get it. They all start off boffing then change their tune once they have cash to flash.”

  “Hmm.”

  Cassie ate her breakfast while Mam got up and loaded the dishwasher. Cassie should feel bad for enticing Jimmy, using him like this when he wasn’t that way inclined, but she didn’t trust many people and needed someone on hand to do whatever she asked. She thought of Shirl. Jimmy had asked whether he could talk to her about things, and Cassie had agreed, reinforcing the rule that if Shirl blabbed, she was dead meat. Jimmy had more than got the point, seeing as he’d so recently puked about the mince.

  She’d have to get to his flat soon as the February Fayre started today. Sharon had taken over the running of it with gusto, according to Brenda’s latest WhatsApp report, which Cassie had read when she’d flopped into bed, exhausted.

  Her mind strayed back to last night and Jimmy. He’d had several shocks but had coped well. He was definitely someone she wanted on her close team, especially with Jason no longer around to do the dirty work, although Jimmy wasn’t quite ready to torture people in the squat for her. Maybe Glen Maddock fancied doing that for some extra cash. He didn’t strike her as the sort who’d settle into retirement without getting bored.

  Once Jason’s mince filled one and a half tubs, she’d guided Jimmy out of the side room, leaving the cousins to clean Marlene and take the meat to Handel Farm. In the corridor, she’d told Jimmy to go home, get some rest, while she visited the squat to burn Jason’s clothing, and her own.