The Savages

by Matt Whyman

  He had heard Sasha talking to their father in the study. No doubt his sister was hoping to sweeten him up so she could see her new boyfriend. Ivan knew Jack from school. The guy was good at buttering up girls, but that’s not how he treated boys in the years below him. If you didn’t step out of his way in the corridor, Jack would just barge through like you didn’t exist. It had happened to Ivan on several occasions. If anything, it just reinforced everything his father said about vegetarians. They were just so self-important, strutting around like they had life all worked out. Well, thought Ivan as the day stretched ahead, he would show Jack that sometimes you couldn’t simply have everything on a plate.

  Even if Sasha talked her way into an evening out, Ivan decided that she should show up at Jack’s place with a headache. That would take the edge off any special time they had planned. Not only would it teach Sasha a lesson for making cheap jokes at his expense, he would do it in a way that afterwards everyone would look back and laugh.

  At the top of the stairs, Lulabelle Hart decided not to disturb the family. She could hear someone at work in the study, clattering away on a keyboard, while all the bedroom doors on this level were closed. Lulabelle really didn’t want to venture up to the next floor and disturb the chatter, gurgling and laughter up there. It sounded like some old guy and a woman playing with a toddler, and left her feeling as if she was trespassing.

  So, treading lightly, Lulabelle crossed the landing for the family bathroom. She would be in and out in moments, after all. They would never know.

  Lulabelle didn’t recognise that she had a problem with food. She loved to eat, when she allowed herself. It helped her to forget what a slide her career was in. What she loathed was the feeling of guilt that expanded in her stomach soon afterwards. In her business, you just couldn’t afford to lose your self-control as she did, which is why she had developed a strategy for indulging herself without piling on the pounds.

  ‘Let’s get this done,’ she said to herself, on locking the door behind her.

  This wasn’t something Lulabelle enjoyed. There was some satisfaction to be had from the way it preserved her figure, despite the stomach cramps, but the procedure itself she found to be a bore. She knew just how to trigger the required response, which she prepared to do having knelt in front of the toilet bowl and lifted the lid. Inserting two fingers into her mouth, Lulabelle reached back for her tonsils and prepared for the involuntary gag reflex that would follow.

  It was over in moments, as she had predicted. With her partially digested lunch now floating in the toilet, and her eyes watering from the exertion, Lulabelle grabbed some paper to wipe her mouth and then reached up for the flush. It was good to do this quickly. It minimised any odour. Wishing fortune would look kindly upon her just once in what was left of her career, Lulabelle pulled the handle down. She would’ve been unaware that one end of a long length of cotton thread was tied to it. She may have heard a clatter as the iron was jerked from its moorings on the shelf above the door behind her, but it happened too quickly for her to react. With the flex tied to the light fitting overhead, the iron simply swooped across the room before the sharp end penetrated the back of her skull. Such was the impact that Lulabelle Hart was dead before her face dropped into the gurgling water.

  9

  Vernon English had a habit of nodding off during long surveillance operations. It had happened on several occasions during his time as a serving police officer, and certainly contributed to the suggestion that he retire early or face dismissal. As a private investigator, it still wasn’t a quality that served him well, but sometimes his tired old body just called the shots.

  As he surfaced from a snooze that afternoon, slouched inside his scuffed white van, Vernon realised that someone had just left the Savage residence. It was the sound of the front door shutting that had woken him. He sat up in his seat, straining to see who it was. He had parked up on the opposite side of the street, some way down from the house. When he saw the daughter emerge on to the pavement, he relaxed visibly. Vernon wasn’t here to stake out the wife and kids. Titus Savage was his only figure of interest, and already he had revealed himself to have a sinister side. Photographs Vernon had taken of Titus talking to the man in the back alley revealed a great deal. It turned out that the guy was a mole, an employee of the company Titus was circling. For the time being, Vernon had decided to keep this information to himself. It was just a question of gathering enough evidence so he could truly skewer the predator before he pounced.

  ‘Eyes down,’ he muttered to himself as Sasha crossed the street in front of him, before tipping his cap low over his brow. ‘That’s it, Miss Savage. Walk on by.’

  As soon as he heard her pass the van, Vernon opened his eyes and watched her heading down the street. She looked all dressed up, clearly going places. Just then, being a teenager seemed a very long time ago to the private investigator. He didn’t want to think about all the screw-ups and the disappointments that littered the landscape of his life from back then until now. Vernon glanced at the time on the dashboard and cursed. He had been asleep for hours. Anything could’ve happened. Fortunately for him, Titus Savage’s black 4x4 was still parked in on the drive in front of the house. In all likelihood, the man would be quietly holed up in his study waiting for the commercial shoot crew to pack up and go home. Vernon shifted his buttocks on the seat. It was a relief that he hadn’t missed anything. He just hoped that situation would change some time soon.

  One by one, the Savages gathered around the body of the model with her head in the toilet bowl. Titus stood with both hands clasped behind him. He was staring at the penetrating wound to the back of her head. The one that had turned the water claret. Grandpa stroked and scratched at his beard, rubbing his gums together at the same time. Angelica stood beside him with the baby on her hip. She closed her eyes and sighed, as if they were simply dealing with a blockage here. Katya was toying with a dummy in her mouth. She didn’t look at all concerned by the discovery of a corpse in the house.

  ‘It was an accident,’ said Ivan uncomfortably, loitering by the sink.

  Titus turned his attention to the iron. It was still strung up to the light fitting by the flex, twisting gently behind the body of Lulabelle Hart.

  ‘An accident,’ he said quietly. ‘Right.’

  ‘OK, well, it wasn’t aimed at her,’ Ivan bowed his head. ‘It was a prank meant for Sasha.’

  ‘A joke?’ Angelica struggled to stay calm. ‘Ivan, you could’ve killed your sister.’

  ‘I assumed she’d see it coming and catch it!’ Ivan protested. ‘In the nose or her forehead,’ he added as if to clarify. ‘Nobody warned me someone else would come in here and then kneel in front of the bowl.’

  As a defence, even Ivan could tell it wasn’t washing.

  ‘It’s clear you’ve been creative,’ said his mother, searching for some way for him to accept responsibility for what had happened here. ‘But there’s a difference between being creative and, well, lethal.’

  ‘So, blame Jack!’ he replied hotly. ‘If he hadn’t asked Sasha round this wouldn’t have happened!’

  ‘Darling, you’re missing the point.’ Angelica shifted Katya into her other arm. ‘There’s a dead model in our bathroom and the crew are still downstairs.’

  ‘So,’ said Grandpa, who continued to size up the corpse. ‘What shall we do?’

  It was Titus who had found the body. Shortly after Sasha had popped in to say she was heading out, and promised not to let him down, he left the study to find Ivan outside the bathroom. The boy looked troubled, and reluctant to explain himself after Titus tested the door and discovered it to be locked from the inside. When Angelica, Kat and Grandpa joined them, Titus decided to force an entry. Nobody shrieked or screamed when he succeeded. Instead, the tragic scene that greeted the family was met by sighs and groans, before all eyes turned to Ivan.

  ‘Does this mean I’m grounded?’ he asked just then. ‘What am I looking at here? A week?’


  Titus drew breath to suggest a lot longer when the sound of someone clearing their throat at the foot of the stairs caused them all to start.

  ‘Hello? Anyone there?’

  ‘Hi,’ said Angelica, as brightly as she could, while looking thoroughly panicked. ‘How can we help?’

  ‘Just to let you know that we’ve wrapped.’

  ‘Oh … oh, right!’ Gathering her wits, Angelica handed baby Kat to Titus and hurried out to the top of the stairs. ‘I hope everything went to plan.’

  She found the shoot’s director looking up at her from the hallway.

  ‘It went better than expected,’ he said. ‘Our star did such a fine job that she’s already gone home. We’re just sweeping the place down to make sure we haven’t left anything behind.’

  Angelica looked blankly at him for a moment. When she did register what that meant, she brightened visibly.

  ‘So, everything is back as you found it?’ she asked. ‘As per the terms of your contract with the agency?’

  ‘As good as new,’ he assured her. ‘You won’t know anyone’s been here.’

  Jack Greenway lived a short walk from the Savage house. To get there, Sasha crossed the park towards the west gate. It was a broad expanse of grassland, tree-lined paths and bushes. Her parents used to take her to the playground near the rose garden or push her in a buggy around the lake. She’d learned to ride a bike here, too. Then, as she grew older, Titus worried that it was no place for a girl like her to be alone.

  One day, Sasha thought to herself on reaching Jack’s road, he would recognise that his eldest daughter could take care of herself. Thanks to her family way, it wasn’t as if she was an innocent in this world.

  ‘Hey,’ said Jack, who opened the front door just as she reached for the buzzer. He was wearing a chef’s apron with a slim-fit T-shirt underneath. ‘Do you like tahini?’

  ‘Oh. I’ve never tried it, actually.’

  Sasha was wearing a shift top, skinny jeans and ballet flats, with her hair pinned as she liked it. Jack checked her up and down, grinned and stepped aside to let her in.

  ‘We’re talking food of the gods,’ he said, and invited her into the kitchen. ‘This evening might even turn you.’

  The first thing Sasha noticed was the smell of cooking. What struck her most was the complete absence of any meat aromas. This came as no surprise, but it was still something that failed to connect with her taste buds. She turned and smiled at Jack. He was so handsome it almost hurt her to make eye contact. Sasha still found it difficult to believe that he had just breezed up to her one day and asked her out. That had never happened to her before, though she knew she didn’t help herself. Being different from every other human being she had ever met outside her family made it hard to let just anyone into her life. That evening, she was looking forward to getting beyond the good looks to find out what made Jack tick. She saw it as a chance to talk and find out if his personality lived up to his appearance. Just then, what worried her was the possibility that she wouldn’t be able to stomach his meal. Aware that he was watching her closely, Sasha inhaled deeply and closed her eyes.

  ‘It smells delicious,’ she said. ‘I can’t wait.’

  ‘You’re early.’ Jack slipped his arms around her waist. ‘I wasn’t expecting you for another hour at least, but I know a way to fill the time.’

  Seeing where this was going, Sasha smiled and removed his hand from her behind.

  ‘Actually, I thought I could help you cook,’ she said, and took a step away.

  Jack grinned, nodding to himself as if somehow he’d just been presented with a challenge.

  ‘Everything is under control,’ he told her. ‘For you, this evening is all about surprises.’

  Now it was Sasha’s turn to smile.

  ‘Well, being here beats hanging around at home right now,’ she said, as Jack pulled out a chair for her. ‘It’s so boring when the place gets hired out for shoots.’

  ‘Sounds cool to me.’ Jack crossed the kitchen floor to inspect a pan on the hob. ‘You must’ve had loads of famous people in your place.’

  ‘Sometimes,’ said Sasha. ‘But it just means the whole family have to stay upstairs. Nothing interesting ever happens.’

  10

  The body of Lulabelle Hart lay face up on the bathroom floor. The skin was beginning to take on a mottled texture, much like the mirror over the fireplace downstairs.

  As soon as Grandpa and Titus had hauled her out of the pan, it was clear that she had died with a look of utter surprise on her face. As a mark of respect, and in case it upset the baby, Angelica kneeled beside the corpse and closed her eyelids. At least then it didn’t look as if the woman was expecting the roof to fall in on her.

  ‘Have you any idea what you’ve done?’ Titus asked Ivan, who by now was looking very subdued. He spoke quietly, and not just because of the crew downstairs. In times of anger, Titus never yelled at anyone. Instead, with his eyes pinched at the corners, he would voice his true feelings in a whisper that sounded like a bellow just waiting to break out. ‘You can’t just go killing people without purpose. How have I raised a boy who thinks this is acceptable? You’ve let me down very badly here. I’m so disappointed in you.’

  The boy shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

  ‘We could always eat her,’ he suggested.

  Titus closed his eyes for a moment more than a blink.

  ‘Ivan, we’ve no idea where she’s been.’

  ‘But we have to do something,’ he said.

  Grandpa eased himself down to take a closer look.

  ‘It would be a shame to let her go to waste,’ he said, and gently grasped her bicep as if to evaluate the flesh. ‘At least that way we know there’ll be no evidence left.’

  Titus glanced at his wife. Angelica looked down at the body, but Kat was back in her arms and wriggling to be set on the tiles.

  ‘Normally this takes planning,’ she said. ‘I’m all out of onions, for one thing.’

  Joining Grandpa at ground level, Titus reached forward and grasped Lulabelle by the hinges of her jaw. Carefully, he opened her mouth to its full extent before running a finger along the inside of her upper teeth. He stared at the wall as he did so, concentrating hard.

  ‘Eating is out,’ he declared, and removed his finger. ‘The tooth enamel has been eroded back there. It’s caused over time by stomach acids coming back up through vomiting. Whatever caused this poor young lady’s problems, she’s not a healthy specimen now. We’d be faced with kidney damage, ulcers, even brittle bones.’

  Clasping Titus by the shoulder for support, Grandpa rose to his feet.

  ‘That’s a shame,’ he said. ‘For her and for us.’

  When Titus stood up, he found Angelica considering him.

  ‘You’ll have to drop her off,’ she said. ‘Tonight.’

  Titus had already sensed that this was coming. Even before his wife had made the suggestion, he just knew that his Saturday evening on the sofa would be ruined.

  Sasha Savage sat alone at the dining-room table. She clasped at her napkin nervously. The clock on the wall told her it was approaching half past seven. She could hear Jack in the kitchen, readying what he had called an amuse bouche.

  ‘It’s just a something,’ he said, on appearing at the door with a little plate in each hand. ‘They call it an amusement for the mouth. A palate tickler.’

  With great ceremony, Jack Greenway set a plate in front of his guest. Sasha peered down at the offering. It was golden, crispy-looking, and about the size of a kidney.

  ‘Sweet battered courgette flower.’

  For a moment, Sasha was lost for words.

  ‘Flowers are edible?’ she asked.

  ‘You’d be surprised what you can eat when you forgo meat.’

  ‘Well, I’ve learned something,’ she said, and collected her fork. ‘We don’t get this at home.’

  ‘Allow me.’ Jack took the fork from her, perching on the edge of the table at
the same time. Then, giving no chance for Sasha to prepare herself, he jabbed the morsel and offered it for her to bite into. ‘Enjoy.’

  ‘I’m sure I will.’

  Keen to please him, Sasha took the nugget in her mouth and crunched into it. She wasn’t sure what to expect. What she hadn’t anticipated was how hot it would be, and instinctively popped it into the palm of her hand.

  ‘Oh,’ said Jack, and left the edge of the table. ‘After all that.’

  ‘It’s not what you think,’ said Sasha desperately. ‘I just didn’t want to burn my mouth. I’m sure it’s fine now.’

  In a bid to demonstrate that she didn’t hate it, and praying that the temperature would be a little more bearable, she tipped the battered flower back into her mouth and crunched into it.

  ‘So?’ said Jack, watching closely. ‘Out of ten?’

  ‘Ten,’ replied Sasha, and switched it with her tongue from one cheek wall to the other. It didn’t taste bad as such; a little bland, maybe, but she sensed that somehow an honest opinion would offend. ‘Definitely a ten,’ she added instead, and prepared for a testing evening.

  As darkness settled, Vernon English wondered whether he should write off the day. He had staked out the Savage house since the camera crew rolled in. Now they had packed up and left, but still Titus remained inside. Vernon figured a City shark like him wouldn’t completely switch off from work for the weekend. Given the questionable methods the private investigator had witnessed him employ, surely he’d use the time to meet up informally and off the record with other players in the looming takeover? No, Vernon couldn’t afford to take his eyes off the man for a moment.

  At the same time, after nearly ten hours in the van, he was ravenously hungry.

  ‘Come on, Titus, old son,’ he muttered to himself at one point. ‘A guy has got to eat.’

  Half an hour later, just as Vernon was about to put a call into his favourite Indian restaurant to see if they’d bike him a Tandoori king prawn and naan bread, his man made an appearance. The private investigator sat up straight in the driver’s seat. There at the front door, silhouetted by the light from the hall, Titus Savage kissed his wife on the cheek before turning for his 4x4. He had one of those holdalls on wheels with him. It looked heavy, judging by the effort Titus put into heaving it onto the back seat. If Titus was about to head out on business, Vernon would be ready.