by Matt Whyman
The mole shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
‘I am,’ he said, watching Titus scribble out a cheque. ‘But it’s my responsibility to support them, and give them the best start in life that I can.’
Titus tore off the cheque he’d just completed and handed it to him.
‘You take good care of those little ladies,’ he said, ignoring the man’s sudden intake of breath. ‘Before you know it they’ll be grown up and gone. Now leave the building. You have two minutes. Disappear!’
With a sum in his hand that comfortably exceeded any redundancy package, the mole did exactly as instructed. Titus watched him hurry towards the lift. Then, leaving the desk, he stood at the door to the office. The floor could support one hundred workers. Right now, just two were at their stations. Both were packing up, shocked into moving in slow motion at such a sudden turn of events. Titus was a ruthless operator. He knew that. It’s how he’d made his name in the City. Not that it brought him much joy at that moment.
‘Is this it?’ he asked himself, looking around at the abandoned office. Everything from the desks to the computers, the phone system and the television clusters would be sold off in due course. In his business, this was a great achievement. Just then, Titus felt as empty as the floor itself.
This wasn’t like creating a work of art or conquering a mountain. Yes, he’d achieved another goal, but what did it bring him except for money? Seeing his father’s mind begin to misfire had prompted him to question what mattered in life. It had come as quite a shock to him, having grown up believing that being at the top of the food chain somehow insured them against death. Titus knew his father wouldn’t live forever, of course, but Oleg’s moments of confusion brought things closer to home now, as had the demise of Lulabelle Hart.
Ever since he’d deposited the body over the cliff edge, Titus had found himself questioning what was really important in life. Time was precious, so it seemed to him just then. At any moment, everything could just be snatched away without warning. He’d taken no pleasure from what had happened to the model. It had been senseless. A terrible waste. In his view, killing could only ever be justified if it served a useful purpose. So long as it was carried out humanely, and the body brought everybody together at the table, Titus could sleep at night, which was something he’d been struggling with since he had zipped up the empty holdall and trudged back to his car. The only occasion when he felt fulfilled and at peace, now he thought about it, was when his family were gathered around him.
Titus remained at the office door for a moment, lost in thought, and then dismissed this quiet crisis with a chuckle. ‘There’s only way to move on,’ he told himself. ‘With a feast.’
It was his mobile that was next to grab his attention. The message came from his eldest daughter, as marked by the special ringtone she had programmed into his phone. Titus collected it from his desk. He stared at the screen for a while, reading it through several times, before deciding with both eyes brimming that it was time to call it a day.
I love you, Dad. Whatever happens x
22
The agency office was a far cry from the interiors they represented. On dropping in after lunch with her husband, Angelica Savage had found it cramped and over-furnished, but Marsha didn’t seem to mind. She was more concerned about the welfare of her client’s children following the tragedy that had occurred soon after the last shoot.
‘We’re working through it as a family,’ Angelica had assured her, before politely enquiring when the next booking might be. In private, things were getting desperate when it came to the interest on her credit card. It was the stress surrounding the death and disposal of the model that had driven her back to the shops. That’s how she had dealt with it, but now she was paying the price. Angelica badly needed the house to keep working for her in order to pay off the instalments. Not that she could admit that under such sensitive circumstances. Instead, by suggesting that Lulabelle wouldn’t wish the agency to be out of pocket for her actions, she had finally persuaded Marsha that it would be better for everyone if they hired out the ground floor sooner rather than later. ‘It’s what Lulabelle would’ve wanted,’ Angelica had finished, lowering her gaze respectfully when Marsha finally opened her bookings diary.
To celebrate, because she had earned it, Angelica returned home with several boutique shopping bags in her grasp. For a short time, a little spending like this would leave her in a shining mood. So, when she opened the front door to find Jack Greenway making his way from the kitchen towards her, she was genuinely pleased to see him.
‘What a nice surprise,’ she said, only to realise that Jack looked like he was about to throw up. ‘Everything all right?’
‘Your son,’ he snapped without stopping. ‘He needs his head testing.’
Angelica stepped aside to let him pass. She watched him grab his coat, just as Sasha rushed after him. Her daughter looked as if she was chasing after an event that had somehow escaped from her control. Angelica noted her leaving a knife behind on the hall table as she followed Jack into the hallway. Judging by her daughter’s air of panic, it looked to her as if Sasha wished she’d never picked it up in the first place. Then she called after him, which was when Angelica realised something more immediate had prompted him to hurry out for air.
‘Ivan was only joking!’ Sasha pleaded. ‘He didn’t really lace your tea with chicken stock last time you were here. At least I don’t think he did. Jack, please!’
When he responded by slamming the front door behind him, Sasha stopped and grimaced in frustration.
‘What’s happened?’ asked Angelica. ‘Not another practical joke?’
Outside, the sound of Jack’s hybrid could be heard starting up and then pulling away with just a hint of a squeal from the wheels.
‘Ivan is upset,’ said Sasha, before hanging her head. ‘He found out that I’ve gone meat free. Jack tried to take all the credit, so Ivan turned on him.’
Angelica glanced at the blade on the table.
‘How about you?’ she asked.
Sasha followed her line of sight. She looked a little sheepish.
‘I think Jack finally realises that I make my own decisions.’
‘I see.’ Angelica set her bags down under the coat rack. ‘Well, at least the month is almost up. You don’t need to prove yourself any more.’
Sasha looked away from her mother for a moment.
‘I’m not sure I want to go back to my old ways,’ she said, and glanced at the front door.
‘You’re a Savage,’ said Angelica sharply. ‘Savages don’t live on lettuce alone.’
‘Mum, you know it’s not like that. I’ve eaten well these last few weeks.’
‘No thanks to me. The lengths I’ve gone to keep this from your father, simply because I thought it was a passing phase. And now you’re telling me you want to make it a permanent arrangement?’ Angelica spoke quickly, which told Sasha she was cross.
‘For now,’ she said all the same. ‘Grandpa has been very supportive.’
‘Oleg knows? Dear God!’
‘I was fixing him a halloumi salad when Ivan walked in.’ Sasha gestured towards the kitchen. ‘Katya was with us. She’s hungry, too.’
Angelica grasped her daughter by the wrist and fixed her with a searching gaze.
‘Tell me you haven’t turned my baby,’ she said.
‘Kat is fine!’ Sasha wriggled in her grip. ‘She‘s been chewing on a chunk of bean curd but it’s hardly going to kill her.’
Without word, Angelica hurried for the kitchen. There, Ivan was picking apart the grilled halloumi as if performing a dissection. Oleg had taken himself to the table, from where he stared through the French windows seemingly lost in thought. On seeing her mother, Katya scrambled across the floor towards her.
‘Cheese! Cheese! Mince, mince, cheese!’
‘What have they done to you?’ she asked, gathering the toddler in her arms.
‘Can you believe people actually eat thi
s?’ Ivan turned to face his mother with a carving knife in hand. ‘Imagine what Sasha’s insides must look like.’
‘Now you put the knife down, too,’ Angelica said calmly. ‘And apologise to your sister for upsetting her boyfriend.’
‘I didn’t upset him,’ said Ivan, still clutching the blade. ‘I just pointed out that he wasn’t as meat free as he believed.’
‘You shouldn’t have put stock in his tea,’ said Angelica. ‘It’s important to have respect for people. Sometimes even vegetarians.’
‘Your mother is right,’ said Oleg, stirring suddenly. ‘It doesn’t matter what she chooses to eat, Sasha will always be your sister.’
Ivan switched his attention back to Angelica. The boy looked cornered, almost betrayed.
‘Wait until I tell Dad,’ he said, before dropping the knife in the sink and rushing for the door.
Sasha looked from her grandfather to her mother, and then crossed to the kitchen counter where she had left her phone. Having caused such an upheaval in the home, and dreading how her father would react if he ever found out, she had a sudden urge to assure him that one thing would never change.
Vernon English had parked just in front of a litter bin. He opened his car window, balled the chocolate bar wrapper in his fist and took aim.
‘Bullseye,’ he declared, as the wrapper passed clean through the opening. It was a small achievement, but a first for the day given the disastrous collapse of a piping-hot pasty in his lap. Vernon celebrated with a small air punch, and then settled back to continue listening in on the conversation taking place in the Savage kitchen.
Having committed himself to investigating a possible link between the family and the discovery of a body at the foot of Beachy Head, it was frustrating to hear yet another heated exchange about food. What was it with these people? he thought to himself. Everyone needs to eat but the Savages took it to an extreme. Over recent weeks he’d overheard the eldest daughter and her mother conspiring to smuggle in vegetarian food and hide it in the cupboards and the fridge, but the secrecy just didn’t make any sense. So, Sasha was ditching meat from her diet. It wasn’t uncommon for a girl her age, but hardly comparable to witchcraft. Vernon had struggled to understand what it was she had to hide. Now her brother and her grandfather were wise to the situation and suddenly the world was coming to an end in there.
‘So, what’s Titus going to do?’ he asked, as if addressing those left in the kitchen after Ivan had walked out. ‘Force feed her pork pies?’
‘I’m sorry you had to be involved,’ he heard Angelica say, presumably addressing the old man, Oleg. ‘I was hoping Sasha would get it out of her system. It seems I was wrong.’
‘Don’t blame yourself,’ replied Oleg. ‘It’s Ivan we should be concerned about.’
‘He’s going to tell Dad,’ said Sasha. ‘I might as well pack my bags right now.’
‘Let’s not overreact,’ said Angelica. ‘So long as he doesn’t think the whole family is in on this, he’s less likely to explode.’
‘Cheese! Cheese!’
Vernon listened to the speaker crackle and pop for several seconds, which marked the abrupt silence that followed Katya’s contribution. Yet again, the private investigator was left baffled as to why someone’s dietary choice should be the cause of such high drama. As Angelica, Sasha and Oleg went on to discuss the best way to break the news to Titus that his firstborn had forgone meat, Vernon sat back in his seat, closed his eyes and sought to work out just what it was that none of them would put into words.
Titus Savage was not unhappy to find himself caught on a tube in the rush hour. He was a tall man, which allowed him to stand head and shoulders over everyone else. It also meant that he could pick off a passenger and assess their quality at close quarters.
On this occasion, as he headed home from the office, Titus loomed over a lean, middle-aged man with a grey crop and matching stubble. The guy was a distance runner, Titus decided, judging by the tanned face and lack of much fat around the midriff. Still, at that age you couldn’t help but timber up. A little padding on lean meat was the perfect combination.
Ultimately, it stopped a cut from drying out in the pan.
It was a short walk home from the station. With some heat and light still left in the day, Titus swung his jacket over his shoulder and wondered what might be for supper. They hadn’t eaten pork in quite a while. As both Ivan and Sasha appreciated a little kick to their meat, he hoped that Angelica would agree that a Thai was in order. Approaching his house, Titus decided that even if it meant he had to pop out to the superstore for a few ingredients, it would be worth the effort. Nothing compared to a feast, of course, but as a midweek meal it would be something they could enjoy as a family. What Titus didn’t expect, on passing a rundown van, was to hear the voices of his wife and daughter discussing the contents of the cupboard. He slowed to a halt, just behind the driver’s door, and realised that it was coming from a speaker inside the vehicle. He didn’t stop to listen in. Instead, he walked on casually, switching his jacket from one shoulder to the next before finding his front door keys.
23
Ivan Savage had been waiting for his father to return home. As soon as he heard the door open, he raced to the bottom of the stairs.
‘Dad, there’s something you need to know!’
In response, Titus raised his palm and then signalled with a finger to the lips for his son to shut the hell up. Next he found his phone and quickly dashed out a message with his thumbs. As soon as he had finished, Titus showed Ivan the screen.
Our house is under surveillance. Let me do the talking.
‘But it’s important,’ Ivan pleaded, only to fall quiet when his father glowered at him, and then follow sulkily in his footsteps as he hurried into the kitchen. There, Titus showed Angelica and Sasha the screen. Both looked up at him smartly, while Titus did his level best to signal that they should talk as normal. He then crouched before Oleg, whose eyesight wasn’t what it once was, and whispered in his ear.
‘So,’ Angelica began hesitantly. ‘How has your day been?’
‘Oh, you know,’ said Titus, who began to scour the kitchen for the listening device. ‘The same as ever. Nothing much to report.’ He paused to run his fingers under the cupboards. ‘How did you get on with the agency?’
Angelica took a moment to compose herself.
‘They’re as shaken up by the tragedy as all of us,’ she said. ‘How sad to think that poor woman was in our house all day. If only we’d known what despair she was in, we might’ve been able to help her.’
Sasha looked from her mother to her father, who continued to scour the kitchen.
‘If only,’ she echoed, simply to fill the silence, before glowering at her brother.
‘Anyway,’ said Angelica, keen to move off the subject before someone spoke out of turn. ‘The agency has booked the house for another shoot. We’ll have to make ourselves scarce in a few weeks from now.’
Titus rolled his eyes, and continued to sweep the room in search of the listening device. Ivan watched him run his hands around the rim of the French windows. It was then his sister crossed over to the cupboard alcove beside him. She did so with a purpose, as if something had sprung to mind that told Sasha exactly where she would find it. Titus stopped in his tracks and watched as she opened the little door. The space contained the gas meter. Sasha inspected it closely, looking underneath it and then at each side in turn. Finally, she stepped away, grinning victoriously at her family. Titus took one look for himself and headed directly for the knife drawer.
‘I’ll be back in a minute,’ he said, and selected his favourite carving knife. ‘There’s something I need to grab for supper.’
Ivan looked delighted as his father marched from the kitchen. He followed close behind, despite Angelica’s hushed instruction to stay put. Titus wrenched open the front door. The light from outside immediately cast him in silhouette from behind, but for the glint of the blade in his grasp.
&nb
sp; ‘Do it, Dad!’ cried Ivan, who wasn’t quite sure what he intended, but found himself completely caught up in the moment. In the street, he heard an engine gun into life. Titus rushed for the road, with his son close behind. Ivan just caught sight of the van’s driver as he struggled to find first gear. The guy faced his father looking surprised and a little bit scared. Ivan just stopped in his tracks and pointed at the vehicle as it finally sped away
‘It’s him again,’ he declared. ‘He wants me.’
Titus turned to face his son. He looked different to Ivan just then. It was as if inner thunderclouds had gathered behind his eyes, which narrowed when he asked the boy to explain himself. As he did so, Angelica, Sasha and even Oleg had arrived at the front door. Angelica held Katya in her arms, but her attention was focused on Titus.
‘Come inside with the carving knife,’ she said calmly, and looked around to be sure that the neighbours weren’t watching.
Titus switched his attention to Sasha.
‘How did you know to look at the gas meter?’ he asked.
‘I remembered a man came to read it,’ she told him. ‘He said that Kat was cute.’
‘Cheese!’
Ivan was alone in taking great delight in the toddler’s sudden outburst. Titus looked pained, for a very different reason than Sasha, his wife and grandfather.
‘It seems Katya really is finding her voice,’ he said slowly.
‘Goodness knows where she got that from,’ said Angelica, whose smile for the child in her arms looked a little forced to Ivan. ‘Cheese and ham, darling. Say ham.’
Holding the carving knife loose against his leg, Titus made his way back to the house.
‘I believe this means it’s time we welcomed Katya into the family way,’ he said, stopping to pet the little girl. ‘Now that her teeth are through and she’s talking, she needs to know her roots. It’ll help her to recognise that we Savages stick together no matter what life throws at us.’