Broken Toys

by Jackson Lear

  “Is it easy to get to?” Josh asked.

  “Not especially. But it’ll be better moving him around in the back of that then shoving him into the back of someone’s car.”

  “And DNA?”

  Anthony shrugged. “It’s not like he’s bleeding.”

  Josh pointed to the side of James’ face. “Blood. Right there.”

  “Yeah, but–”

  “No ‘but’. That’s blood. It can be traced.”

  “I’ll give it a good clean tomorrow, dismantle it, burn it, drive down to London and throw away the remains.”

  After another ten minutes of discussion, they agreed that it was the best plan they could come up with.

  An hour later, Anthony returned with the bike. Josh had spent the entire time pacing back and forth, shitting himself with worry.

  “Sorry, sorry,” Anthony said. “I had to set it up and then I couldn’t find the bolt to hook it all together.”

  “Well hurry up already, I’m starting to lose my sanity here.”

  Anthony handed over a pair of garden gloves to Josh and slipped on a pair for himself. He backed the trailer up against James and the two men hoisted the dead forty year old into the back. They shimmied him about until they got him into the foetal position. That in itself took more effort than they expected.

  “We’ve moved him one metre,” said Anthony, as he dusted himself off.

  “Four thousand to go,” mumbled Josh. “I’ll take my car. Do you want to follow me?”

  “I guess, otherwise how will we find each other?”

  “Good point,” said Josh. They pulled out the map and agreed on a fixed location, in case anything happened. “If we see the police, I’ll be the distraction,” said Josh. “I’ll speed past them and force them to chase me if I have to.”

  “Thanks,” said Anthony. “I didn’t see any on my trip over here.”

  Josh took one last look over the site and knew it was a mess of footprints and evidence for the police to pick over later. He would have to return and clean it all up.

  They set off. Anthony followed Josh but it wasn’t easy lugging himself and James through the streets. He remembered how surprising it was to carry Ernie along, back when Ernie was just a small basset hound. The full weight of James threw off his speed and manoeuvrability. He lost sight of Josh several times and was uneasy when Josh pulled over to the side so that Anthony could catch up.

  When they reached the field, Josh carried on driving and Anthony paused to check the site with his binoculars. He was on the look out for any mischievous kid, or a couple of teenagers having a make out session. So far so good, but just because he couldn’t see anyone didn’t mean that no one was watching him. He veered off the road, crossed the grass, and ducked around the far side of the hedges.

  Josh parked and hurried along as quickly as he could. With a bicep destroying heave he helped Anthony carry the corpse down through the valley and over to the train tracks. They walked along the broken stones lining the rails for as long as they could to avoid any footprints being left in the ground. When the exhaustion got to be too much, they dropped James to the side and breathed in a gasp of air.

  “Right,” said Josh, pacing around. “While you were gone I did some research. The first train of the day passes here, towards London, at 5:26. The first train in the other direction passes at 5:33. If we mix up the tracks then someone on the 5:26 will see James and warn the next train about him, so we have to get this right.”

  “And hope there isn’t a seven minute delay,” said Anthony.

  “We should also rub pebbles across his face and body.”

  Anthony strained a look back at Josh. “Why?”

  “To scrub away any evidence of us, and also so it looks like he was hit while he was still alive, and not several hours later.”

  “Fine. Do we prop him up or just kneel him over?”

  “Let’s dump him straight along the rail so his face and chest get crushed in one go.”

  “Holy fuck, Josh.”

  “I know. Thankfully we’re not the ones who are going to watch it happen.”

  They shifted James’ body, made sure he wasn’t going to roll away, and then needed a moment to regain their strength.

  Josh looked over their arrangement and offered little more than a feeble shrug. “I don’t know if we should say something. I mean …”

  “He’s a kidnapping rapist murderer who has scarred at least twenty kids who saw him kill Warrick right in front of them, not to mention all the bullshit that he’s put my family through over the last couple of months. If I end up in Hell because of this then I’m going to track him down and keep butchering him until the end of time. I might even come back at dawn, crack open a beer, and watch this whole mess unfold.”

  “Don’t.”

  “We just did the world a favour.”

  “True, but if the police start asking questions because someone saw you with a beer then we’re going to be in a world of hurt. Think of your kids, think of Gemma, think of Amanda.” Josh cast one last look around the horizon to see if anyone could see him. With a quick pull on Anthony’s arm he was able to lead him away, back along the train track until they reached the entrance to the valley. They were by no means done for the evening, but at least the train would do most of their dirty work at dawn.

  80

  Josh

  Josh woke up with the phone ringing his ear. “Yeah?”

  “Get up now,” said Anthony. “Go to your front door before the police get there.”

  Josh slid out of bed as quickly as he could. “Okay, I’m going.”

  “Be careful. Front door.”

  Josh trotted downstairs and felt every creak buzz through his ears. He crossed the lounge, checked the side window, and double checked the spyhole in the door. The sun had only just risen and he couldn’t see anyone or anything waiting for him, but he had a suspicion that Toads had paid them both another visit that evening.

  Josh opened the door, glanced down at the welcome mat, and felt his insides twist and squirm upon themselves. There was a small jar waiting for him.

  “Okay,” Josh said, into the phone.

  “I’m hanging up now,” said Anthony.

  The phone clicked. There was a yellow liquid sitting half an inch in the jar. It looked like it was either urine or lemon juice. Josh nudged the jar with the back of his finger as something floated into view.

  It was an eyeball. It was brown, and bloodshot, and it was floating in a jar of lemon juice.

  Josh was betting anything that Anthony had one just like it.

  Josh went to work as though nothing had happened, but it was a struggle sitting around like he was supposed to behave normally. He kept refreshing the news, waiting for something to break. By the end of the day, with nothing to report, Josh went over to see Brooke.

  “Hey,” she said, smiling weakly.

  “How’s it going?” Josh asked.

  Brooke glanced around the office to make sure they were still alone and, even though they were, she dropped into a whisper. “Are we okay?”

  “Sure, yeah,” said Josh, though his insides were screaming at him from every direction.

  “You’ve had quite a shitty couple of months,” said Brooke.

  “There have been some positives in there. You, for example.”

  Brooke smiled but looked away, feeling guilty.

  “Are we okay?” Josh asked, feeling as though they were a world away from that being a reality.

  “I’m not liking Luxford anymore,” said Brooke.

  “You and me both. Why don’t we run away together? We’ll go to Paris, or Australia.”

  Brooke smirked and rolled her head. “You want to take me to Australia?”

  “Yeah. How about it?”

  “I think my husband would object,” said Brooke.

  Josh bobbed his head, fearing that he understood Brooke’s intentions aligned more with her husband and less with himself.

  Brooke
winced and looked away. “I hate to ask this, but I’m updating my resume. Will you be my reference?”

  “Sure,” said Josh, and he felt the first stab of loss. Brooke was distancing herself and breaking it off with him. He felt a hundred pleas scramble to the surface and he hoped he would find one that could win her over. “But even so, come with me. Away from England. I miss you. You make me happy.”

  “When would we leave?” Brooke asked.

  “Tonight. We’ll book a ticket on the next plane out of Heathrow and leave everything behind.”

  “And when my husband comes looking for me?”

  Josh shrugged. “Tell him you’re in love with me.”

  “Well ...” murmured Brooke, and she looked away awkwardly.

  “Are you in love with me?”

  Brooke winced and looked Josh in the eye. “I am, but I don’t think I’m in love with you. If that makes sense.”

  Josh had a sense of this happening before, and he was sure several of his ex-girlfriends had broken up with him using this exact speech.

  “Do you love me?” Brooke asked.

  Josh hesitated for too long, and he knew that a simple ‘yes’ could spell his doom, or it could risk a life time of happiness. But he knew just saying ‘yes’ would have been the automatic thing to say, and the truth was his mind was scrambled between fighting for Brooke and getting the hell out of England for a while.

  “I take it, it’s a no?” Brooke asked.

  “I take a long time to tell someone I love them,” said Josh.

  “And yet you fall easily in love with people?”

  “Yeah, and I know I do that quite often, which is why I need to distance myself at times or else I fall in trouble.”

  “So, do you love me?” Brooke asked again, as her eyes broke towards uncertainty.

  Josh bit his tongue. He would have to stick it out with Brooke through her divorce, they would have to find a place together outside of Luxford. They would literally have to run away together. None of that made any real sense in a logical world, and yet Josh felt himself take a chance with his fantasy. “Yes. I love you.”

  He had hoped for a reaction that would make everyone he knew utterly jealous, but it didn’t happen. Brooke stood, wrapped her arms around Josh, and nustled her forehead into his chest. “That did actually mean something to me,” she said.

  “I’m all ears if you want to say it back to me,” said Josh, but he could feel it was a losing battle. All he had was a hug. Not even a kiss. A kiss would have been salvageable, but not a hug. A hug is what you give someone as you say goodbye.

  “You mean a lot to me, but I’ve cheated on every single boyfriend I’ve ever had, and I would end up cheating on you.”

  “That’s no guarantee,” said Josh.

  “Then I’d be worried that you would cheat on me, like you did with Hannah.”

  That one stung him harder than he expected. “You were the first.”

  “Cheating partners work out a lot less than a regular, stable relationship. I need to try and stop that from happening. So I’m sorry, but I can’t runaway with you. I have to go quietly back to my husband and hope he forgives me.” Brooke sniffed and returned to her chair. “I did have fun, though.”

  But it wasn’t love, Josh thought.

  “Can we still be friends?” Brooke asked.

  Josh went into full theatrical mode, winced and clutched his heart. “Ah! God! Can we still be friends? The sentence every man fears!”

  Brooke held back a laugh. “I thought it was, ‘I’m pregnant.’”

  “Nah. ‘Can we still be friends’ means that you’ve just crushed someone’s heart. Pregnancy is often a good thing. But yeah, we can still be friends. Unless your husband tries to cut off all communication.”

  Brooke lowered her head for a moment and started nodding to herself. “Yeah, uh, as soon as I leave Luxford, I don’t know if you and I can still communicate.”

  “Oh, so we’ll be friends in spirit and without any actual talking?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Sounds dandy,” said Josh, and he felt his heart start to break again. “But I get it. You two work on your marriage, and you and I will leave on good terms.”

  “I’d like that,” said Brooke, doing her best to smile brightly.

  “Perhaps you can set me up with your cousin?” Josh asked.

  Brooke laughed and snapped her fingers together. “Guess what?”

  Josh felt a groan coming along. “She’s pregnant?”

  “Three months along. She announced it a couple of days ago.”

  “Good for her. If she wants to name the kid Josh, by all means. It’s a good, strong name.”

  “Ah, no. If it’s a girl she’s going with Ava. If it’s a boy she’s going with Peter.”

  “Why?”

  Brooke shrugged. “I guess she likes the names. It’s certainly a lot better than Brooke. My maiden name is ‘Bridges’, so I have no idea what my folks were thinking. ‘Brooke Bridges’? I mean, really?”

  “Mine rocks. Everyone knows it,” said Josh. “Plus, there’s half of the Bible written about me.”

  Brooke arched an eyebrow at him. “You know a lot of Middle Eastern ‘Josh’s, do you?”

  Josh smiled, settled down, and got one last hug from Brooke before calling it a day.

  Josh went home, flicked on the news, and almost immediately had his head start to spin. The police had made an arrest in the death of Catherine Shievers. Louis Carmichael. Forty years old. Former resident of Luxford, now living in York.

  Josh stared at the news and didn’t realise that he had been shaking his head for several minutes.

  James McIntyre didn’t do it.

  Impossible.

  Josh had just drowned a man who may have been innocent of Catherine’s death.

  That scumbag still probably killed Zofia. He certainly kidnapped her and allowed her to be raped. No one would ever miss that parasite.

  Josh went through his teenage diary and flipped through a hundred pages in an hour. There wasn’t a single Louis Carmichael mentioned. He had to go through his list of residents to find Martin Carmichael, who lived on Fairfield Road.

  Louis would have been twenty at the time. The same age as James McIntyre. Perhaps Martin was Louis’ dad.

  Josh flipped through his diary again and came across James’ two best friends. Nicky Kalistar and Loomer.

  Loomer was down on the train tracks a lot, according to his reputation. He and James would have known about Toads. Hell, just because they arrested Louis Carmichael doesn’t mean that James wasn’t involved. They could have been equal partners. It certainly makes it likely that James knew that Catherine was there if he was willing to dump Zofia in the same area, knowing that one body hadn’t been unearthed yet.

  Josh went through the old year books and saw the seventeen year old Louis Carmichael. He looked like a young kid, still with acne and a teenage glare that told everyone he was hardcore. Josh rolled his eyes at the picture. There were only a couple of teenagers in the entire world who were hardcore, the rest were just posers.

  He got up and began pacing the room. He and Anthony had both disposed of the jar with the eye in it. They both drove out to a secluded area of town, tipped the contents of the jar into a drain, and smashed the empty jar in the industrial area. It was clear that Toads knew who killed James, and it was likely that Toads had unearthed James, removed his eyes, and donated them to Josh and Anthony.

  It sent a shudder down Josh’s spine, knowing that he killed James with a witness, and the witness knew how to find him. Toads could only remain hidden from the police for so long. They were bound to catch him sooner or later, especially since he was wanted for questioning in the Zofia Bukowski murder.

  Toads knew what Josh had done.

  Josh paced around the room, trying to figure out the best course of action. If he left right now, left the country, it would make him look guilty. There was certainly enough evidence that could implicate
him, regardless of what Toads did to the body afterwards.

  But, if Josh stayed, and if Toads was caught, then Toads would be able to reveal everything he knew.

  Then again, Josh could leave now and say that he was spooked by all of the toys returning and dealing with the aftermath of finding Catherine’s body.

  But he may need to provide a testimony in court.

  Josh shook his head, trying to clear the many voices and figure out what he was supposed to do. For his own well being he knew he had to leave Luxford, but he would have to do it without Brooke. He would need to give her one last chance.

  He also knew he was going crazy and needed someone to talk to.

  Half an hour later he drove by Amanda’s house in Portal Close and saw Anthony’s car parked outside. In all of the rush, Josh had forgotten that Anthony might need Amanda’s council as well. Josh sent Amanda a message and waited until he got a response.

  ‘Are you free tonight?’

  He waited ten minutes before Amanda got back to him. ‘Can’t tonight. Maybe tomorrow?’

  Josh smiled at the thought of his friends finally getting together, and hoping that they weren’t in the middle of a fight.

  81

  Luxford

  Two days later, James McIntyre was found. He was strung upside down against a tree with his hands bound together with barbed wire. He had his own set of wings wrapped around him, cocooning the body. They were ripped, torn, and smeared with animal blood. His eyes were missing.

  82

  Josh

  By the end of the following day, Josh had handed in his letter of resignation and put his house on the market. The official story was that he couldn’t stay in a town flooded with brutal killings and children being attacked in the school. It most certainly had nothing to do with a mid-life crisis.

  He stopped by Brooke’s desk before he left for the day, a lump building in his chest like he was an eighteen year old once again, trying to ask the girl of his dreams to marry him. “I know this is completely out of no where, but do you want to come with me?”