by Matt Whyman
The private investigator may have neglected to pack a sandwich, but he had an overnight bag on the back seat and a passport in the glove compartment. Living alone, he could fly at a moment’s notice. The company that hired him were convinced that Titus operated outside the law. Desperate for evidence, and with time running out, they had instructed Vernon to do whatever was necessary. Checking his key was in the ignition, Vernon waited for Titus to pull out onto the road and hoped they were heading somewhere nice. New York or Barcelona. Any place known for its restaurants and street food.
Vernon kept his distance as they made their way out of the city. He had tailed many people throughout the course of his career, and never been spotted by anyone. Titus wasn’t difficult to follow. He was a careful, considered driver. He didn’t once break the speed limit, and slowed long before he passed through a speed trap. In a way, it was just too easy. Vernon drove with one hand on the wheel, sighing to himself every now and then as he braked to keep his distance. Without doubt, Titus was heading for the motorway orbital. The private investigator knew this stretch of road well. He was also well aware that they were about to pass a drive-in. His stomach had been rumbling over the sound of the van’s radio. Having last eaten at breakfast time, he felt weak with hunger. It would take him no time at all to collect a maxi bag of chicken nuggets and a strawberry shake. He’d easily catch up with Titus before he reached the motorway. As the neon sign for the drive-in loomed into view, it seemed to him that there could be no other option. Given that his next meal might not come until he was strapped into an airplane seat, it made sense to fuel up now. Leaving Titus to trundle on, Vernon accelerated off the road and screeched to a halt before the serving hatch. It was, without a doubt, the most exciting thing he’d done all day.
‘Make it snappy,’ he told the youngster serving him. ‘Got a flight to catch.’
A minute after placing his order, with the shake lodged between his thighs and a bucket of nuggets riding alongside him, Vernon fishtailed back onto the road and hit the accelerator. By his reckoning, Titus would be back in his sights within thirty seconds at most.
Twenty miles later, cursing at the top of his voice, Vernon English was forced to join the motorway with no sign of the man he had set out to follow. He wasn’t even sure that Titus had headed in the direction of the airport. All he could do was follow his instinct and drive there any way. Just then, with the shake finished, the last nugget in the bucket at his side tasted like a very bitter pill indeed.
11
Thankfully for the Savages, Lulabelle Hart had been supple and forgiving when they came to fold her into the holdall. From experience, Titus knew that the muscles in a corpse slowly began to stiffen from around the three-hour mark. It took between twelve and twenty-four hours before the body became totally rigid for a while. So long as everything went to plan, as it had on previous occasions, he would be unpacking her with plenty of time to spare. Titus anticipated a little resistance, of course, but he really didn’t want to be breaking a sweat trying to straighten the model’s limbs before letting her go.
Even with rigor mortis in mind, Titus was in no hurry to reach the coast. Rushing always led to mistakes, which was something he had learned at a very early age. It was his late mother who taught him the importance of patience. We take our time in the kitchen and look at the results, she would say. It’s the same when it comes to covering our tracks.
On the way, Titus considered what to do with his son. Ivan was a complicated boy, but this incident in the bathroom was quite a wake-up call. A cry for help, in many ways, he thought to himself on reflection. It left Titus feeling guilty. As a father, had he let him down? Work took up so much of his time, especially lately with the big takeover he had lined up. Still, that was no excuse. If he’d spent the day with Ivan, instead of shutting himself away in his study, then he wouldn’t be driving into the night with a dead diva in the boot.
By the time he arrived at his destination, which took the shape of an empty headland car park, Titus resolved to return a different man. He owed it not just to his son but Sasha, too. He had been a little hard on her about this boy. She had shown maturity in handling the situation, and as her father he needed to acknowledge that. Just then, however, he had a job to do. Titus climbed out of the 4x4, collecting his coat and a scarf from the passenger seat. It was a clear, cool night, with a hint of salt on the breeze. A mothball moon hung over the ocean. The water glittered underneath it, like a silver carpet rolled out from the horizon, but now was not the time to admire the view. Extending the handle to the holdall, Titus made his way across the headland towards the cliff edge.
As a beauty spot, Beachy Head was unbeatable. As a suicide magnet, the towering chalk cliff edge was notorious for drawing the despondent. Given the impact wound to the back of Lulabelle’s Hart’s head, dropping her body onto the rocks way below seemed like the only option available to Titus. She’d pick up many more injuries on her way down, after all, which would cover the real cause of death. At the foot of the cliff, she’d just be another sad statistic. He took no pleasure in considering this. If anything, he felt quite maudlin as he plodded across the grass. Titus was so lost in thought, in fact, dwelling on how he’d failed his son, that for a moment he didn’t register the figure sitting with his legs dangling over the edge. When he finally realised what he was facing, he stopped in his tracks and released his grip on the holdall handle. Then, moving slowly so as not to startle or alarm the young man, Titus stepped wide until he drew alongside him. He guessed the guy was in his early twenties, despite weeping to himself like a lost little boy.
‘It’s a beautiful night,’ said Titus finally, with both hands in his coat pockets. ‘It would be a shame if this was your last.’
The young man looked around with a start. Hurriedly, he wiped the tears from his cheeks. Titus nodded in greeting, and then returned his gaze to the horizon line.
‘Leave me alone,’ he heard him mutter. ‘You don’t know me.’
‘No, but I know why you’re here. You’re a jumper, right?’
‘Don’t say that.’
‘But it’s true.’ Titus turned to face him. ‘And the fact that you can’t even handle hearing the word tells me you don’t really want to take your own life. Right now, the idea is more attractive than the reality.’
The young man choked back a sob. Titus noted the bicycle in the grass behind him, and marked him down as a local.
‘It’s all gone wrong,’ he croaked. ‘Everything.’
Titus watched him weep for a moment. Then he produced a handkerchief from his pocket.
‘Here,’ he said, and stepped a little closer. ‘Dry your eyes.’
At first the young man refused it, but Titus insisted.
‘I loved her,’ he said, and blew his nose. ‘I know everyone says that breaking up hurts, but I can’t go on without her in my life. There’s no reason for me to be here any more.’
‘I can think of one,’ said Titus straight away. ‘Your family.’
‘What do they care?’ he sniffed. ‘I left home last year.’
‘But you never leave their hearts,’ said Titus, and tapped his chest. ‘Whatever stage you’re at in life, you’ll always find a place there.’
The young man wiped his nose on the back of his sleeve. Then he screwed up his eyes and attempted to hold back a sob.
‘My parents won’t care,’ he said, and dug his fingernails into the grass as if braced to push himself off.
‘Oh, they care all right!’ Titus held out his hand, bidding him to halt. At the same time, he was ready if the guy chose to reach out for him. ‘Trust me. As a father, it’s my role to be there for my kids, even if they turn their backs on me.’
‘You reckon?’ The young man looked like he was listening at least.
‘No doubt about it,’ Titus assured him. ‘Everyone has to tread their own path through life, and make mistakes along the way. I just hope my children know that when they screw up my door is always open.�
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The guy was just staring at Titus now. Finally, he blinked as if a spell had broken.
‘Anyway, what are you doing out here at this time?’
‘Well, I’ve no plans to throw myself off,’ said Titus. ‘I’d rather be at home with my wife, in fact. It’s where I belong.’
For a moment, the pair looked out across the sea in silence.
‘I cycled straight here when I read her note,’ said the man eventually. ‘She’d taken her stuff and everything. Killing myself seemed like the only option.’
‘You want to kill the pain,’ said Titus, as if to correct him. ‘That’s understandable, and I imagine just putting it into words right now is helping you to feel a little better.’
This time the man offered a brief smile,
‘I guess.’
‘So, why don’t you take that crappy bike of yours and head back to your folks? Doesn’t matter when you last saw them or what was said. Trust me, whenever you’re in trouble it’s the only place to be.’
The young man just stared at Titus for a second. Then he turned and bowed his head. Titus watched him, close to tears himself, and then smiled when he climbed to his feet and took a step away from the cliff edge.
‘Is everything OK?’ the man asked next, as he collected his bike from the grass. It was a comment he would go on to share with the investigating officers some months later, for the shaven-headed guardian angel who had just saved his life appeared to be welling up.
‘It will be,’ said Titus. ‘Just as soon as I get home.’
Sasha Savage felt peculiar. After three courses, she’d expected to be bloated and full. Instead, she set down her dessert spoon in the plate she’d just cleared, feeling strangely nourished.
‘That was … good,’ she said.
‘You sound surprised.’ On the other side of the candle lights, Jack Greenway had been watching his dinner date finish her final mouthful. ‘We vegetarians know how to entertain, you know?’
‘OK, it was more than good,’ said Sasha. ‘It was great.’
Jack leaned in a little closer.
‘Do you really mean that?’
Following the fried flower episode, things had picked up considerably. Sasha had quite enjoyed the artichoke bruschetta that Jack served for starters. The main dish, a gratin that contained a lot of beans, was certainly edible. What it lacked, in her opinion, was any bite and sinew. Still, this was Jack Greenway cooking for her. Jack Greenway. Granted, he had spent much of the meal talking about himself. When he did ask her a question, it was about the food he had cooked for her. Still, it was clear to Sasha that he had made a big effort. Even if the conversation had been a little one way, it was only polite that she complimented his culinary efforts. The meal had been much better than she imagined, even if she did wonder if there would be any sliced meat at home for a late-night sandwich.
‘I loved it,’ she said, and folded her napkin.
‘That’s great to hear,’ said Jack as a grin eased across his face. ‘So, after all that, would you?’
Sasha’s eyes widened. Having dismissed her father’s warnings about dining alone with the guy, she suddenly wondered whether he might have been right after all.
‘Would I what?’
‘Turn,’ said Jack. ‘Could you become meat-free for me? I was hoping that this evening has showed you the joy to be had from eating food that didn’t once have a mother or a face.’
Sasha screwed up her face.
‘Eating meat isn’t all that bad.’
‘It should be a crime in my opinion,’ said Jack. ‘Carnivores show no respect for life or the natural order.’
‘But a falafel deserves everything it gets?’ Sasha said this with such a disarming smile that Jack could find no argument.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said eventually. ‘Sometimes I forget that not everyone shares my views about eating.’
I know the feeling, thought Sasha.
‘It’s good to believe in something,’ she said instead. ‘It shows a strong spirit.’
Jack didn’t respond for a moment. He just held Sasha’s gaze to the point where she had to blink and look away.
‘You know I’m thinking about going vegan,’ he said eventually. ‘Totally plant-based eating. No dairy. Nothing.’
‘Wow,’ said Sasha, who didn’t quite know how to respond to this news. ‘Hardcore.’
‘I hoped you’d be impressed,’ he said. ‘Just as I’m pleased this little supper of mine has given you food for thought.’
‘It really has,’ said Sasha, and hoped perhaps that things would move from the table to the sofa some time soon. Making out in the front room seemed more appealing to her than this culinary inquisition, though she certainly wasn’t the kind of girl to set her sights on the bedroom. Not after such a short time together. Then again, judging by the way Jack remained in his chair with his eyes locked on hers, it didn’t look like they were going anywhere.
‘So, what do you think about the next seven days?’ he asked her eventually. ‘Could you go without meat for a week?’
‘What?’ said Sasha, who struggled to find the right response. ‘Seriously?’
Slowly, as a thought took shape in his mind, Jack sat back and lifted his chin by an inch.
‘Actually, let’s see what you’re really made from,’ he said. ‘Make it a month!
‘But, Jack—’
‘It would mean so much to me,’ he purred. ‘I just know there’s a vegetarian inside you.’
Ten minutes after her daughter was supposed to return home that evening, Angelica began disinfecting the kitchen surfaces with an antibacterial spray. The commercial people had brought in professional cleaners as the contract dictated. They had left it spotless, and that included removing the eviscerated vole from the fire grate without even a shriek. Angelica hadn’t found fault with any of it. They had even sought her approval before leaving. Then again, her reason for going over things one more time had nothing to do with cleanliness. It was simply a distraction as she fretted about Sasha.
Angelica had tried her mobile, only for it to go to voice message. Calling Titus wasn’t an option. As a precaution, he had left his phone at home. Taking it with him would only leave a digital footprint, and that was the last thing he needed. All she could do was work the cloth over the countertops and hope that her family would be back under the same roof soon. Angelica struggled not to fear the worst, which was why she gasped when a voice broke the silence behind her.
‘I can’t sleep.’
Spinning around, she found Ivan in his pyjamas. He looked paler than ever, and very gloomy.
‘My boy,’ she said, and opened her arms to offer him a hug. ‘I know you’ve made some mistakes today, but I do still love you so.’
Ivan walked into his mother’s arms. He didn’t return the squeeze, and just gazed at his reflection in the French windows behind her.
‘Dad is really disappointed in me, isn’t he?’
‘He’ll get over it.’ Angelica moved her hands to his shoulders, and straightened her arms. She took a long look at Ivan, gazing into his eyes. ‘You’re his only son,’ she said. ‘It’s important to him that you grow up with his values, just as he grew up with Grandpa’s. Killing people for kicks isn’t something they would ever consider.’
‘I didn’t do it on purpose,’ he said to remind her.
‘I know that, said Angelica. ‘Just don’t let it happen again, OK?’
Ivan nodded, and then turned along with his mother at the sound of a key in the front door. Angelica held her breath on hearing footsteps in the hall. When Titus walked into the kitchen, leaving an empty-looking holdall behind him, she forced a smile that he saw through immediately.
‘What’s the problem?’ he asked, shrugging off his coat.
Angelica glanced down at Ivan, indicating that the conversation could wait. Titus understood, and considered his son for a moment.
‘Ivan,’ he said finally. ‘I blame myself for what happened. I
shouldn’t have shut myself away with work all morning. Not at the weekend. That’s family time. But we can’t go back. It’s done now. If you’ve learned a valuable lesson here, then that woman won’t have died in vain.’
The boy nodded, and then agreed with his father that it was time to return to bed. He scuttled off looking much brighter, which drew an admiring smile from Titus. Then he faced Angelica, and breathed out long and hard.
‘What a night,’ he said, crossing the floor to collect two wine glasses from the rack.
‘It isn’t over yet,’ said Angelica, and paused until she had his full attention. ‘Sasha hasn’t come home.’
Titus set down the glasses on the counter. He glanced at the clock on the wall, his eyes tightening at the same time. His gaze only shifted at the sound of a car pulling up outside. He looked at Angelica, who stared back, clearly straining to listen just like him. As the vehicle halted, the engine cut out immediately. Even before it came back into life, with barely a squeeze on the pedal, Titus knew for sure that there had to be batteries supporting the motor under the bonnet.
‘It’s her,’ he said. ‘The vegetarian drives a hybrid.’
Angelica knew he was talking about those eco-friendly cars, but was in no mood to discuss the advantages and disadvantages.
‘Go easy on her,’ she said, as if fearful that Titus might explode. ‘And let’s keep what happened today to ourselves. The model had an eating disorder, and we shouldn’t let our daughter dwell on that. She’s at an impressionable age.’
‘Which is why we need to know what kind of boy has kept her from home.’
A moment later, Sasha appeared at the kitchen door. She took a breath on finding her parents waiting for her, and pressed a hand to her chest. Judging by the state of her hair, it was also quite clear to Titus and Angelica that their daughter had been thoroughly ravished.