by Matt Whyman
‘I thought I’d finished him,’ complained Ivan. ‘Somehow he survived and now he’s making a big fuss.’
‘Does your father know?’
Ivan shrugged and shook his head.
‘He’s busy with Sasha. I think she’s finally come out to him.’
Oleg considered this for a moment.
‘I’m sure we won’t let her share go to waste,’ he said, only for his shoulders to sag as he sighed. ‘That’s if there’s meat to eat.’
On the screen, Ivan appeared to run out of bullets. He pressed the trigger button a couple of times, but by then it was game over. Tossing the controller to one side, he faced his grandfather directly.
‘Will you help me?’ he asked. ‘Please?’
Even as the words came out, Ivan doubted his grandfather would agree. At his age, what could he do? Sure enough, Oleg looked to the floor with a sigh. When he glanced back again, however, Ivan saw a gleam in his eye that for a moment made him look like a younger man.
‘It’ll be just like old times,’ he said, and stepped aside so his grandson could lead the way.
Titus could still be heard in the kitchen as they crept downstairs. His conversation with Sasha and Angelica sounded just as intense, but with some laughter now. Even so, Ivan had no intention of interrupting him again. With his grandfather’s assistance, he figured his dad need never know there had been a problem with the kill. Only Angelica noted him creeping towards the back door with Oleg shuffling close behind. Ivan pressed his finger to his lips, glancing warily at Titus at the same time. She frowned, but returned her attention to her husband as he talked about how proud he had been at Sasha’s first feast. Ivan clicked open the door, before turning to check on his grandfather.
‘Can you make it quick and clean?’ he asked as they stepped out into the yard.
Oleg squinted in the light, even though it was beginning to fade. His skin looked strikingly waxy to Ivan, who was reminded that this was the first time he had seen his grandfather outside since he moved in with the family.
‘I’m not quick any more, my boy,’ he said, and used his cane to walk, ‘but I’m always clean. It’s a skill. Something you’ll pick up over time.’
The garden path was carefully concealed by overhanging branches and foliage from the borders. This was down to Titus, who liked to make sure that it couldn’t be overseen by the neighbours. As Ivan approached the shed, it struck him that the rungs into the pit might present a problem. He quickened his pace, anxious to work out a way to assist his grandfather so that he could get the job done. The plastic chair, he thought to himself, would give him something to stand on to help the old man descend. Lifting away the hatch, the boy turned and scrambled down to the concrete floor. He looked up, just as Oleg’s face appeared.
‘You can do this, Grandpa,’ said Ivan, and slid the chair into place. Oleg looked down into the pit. He seemed confused to the boy, which wasn’t unusual. Ivan reached up with his hand, ready to steer the old man’s foot onto the top rung. ‘Come on. Let’s finish this!’
‘But it looks like we’re too late,’ said Oleg.
Ivan glanced over his shoulder. With a gasp, he then turned round so quickly that the chair tipped underneath him. The boy crashed to the floor, but he barely seemed to notice. He picked himself up and reached for the stub of rope that dangled from the beam. The rubber trough on the floor contained a couple of inches of blood at most, but the captive from which it had come was nowhere to be seen.
31
Vernon English was in a sorry state. He had lost just enough blood to bring him close to fainting, while his body, shaved and lightly tenderised by Ivan, made him look like a badly plucked chicken in a silver foil nappy. On top of everything, his escape bid had almost knocked him senseless.
It was his junior captor who was also responsible for this bid for freedom. As soon as Ivan had dropped the knife and fled, the private investigator had made every effort to work his wrists free from the rope bindings. Desperation drove him, fuelled by a fear that failure would see him meet a gruesome end. It had taken a while, and left him with a badly skinned right hand, but eventually he had done it. Vernon’s next challenge had been to swing and stretch until his fingertips brushed the knife handle ever closer across the floor. Laughing deliriously to himself once he had grabbed it, he reached up with all his might and attempted to cut the rope. Success sent him crashing head first to the floor. He had narrowly missed the trough, hitting the concrete instead. As a result, he went on to haul himself from the pit in a traumatised daze. Too weak to speak, Vernon had blinked in the late light and tottered towards the house. He had heard the back door opening, but that wasn’t what persuaded him to stumble sideways in the direction of the French windows.
It was the sight of the little angel watching him from behind the glass.
This blue-eyed girl with blonde ringlets had beamed at Vernon, entrancing him. Having been through hell, it was a glimpse of heaven that drew him closer. At the window he sank to his knees, and pressed his palms to the glass where she had pressed hers.
‘Save me,’ he croaked, and mustered a smile as she giggled and chattered at him. Just then, the vision before Vernon represented everything that was good with the world, and all that he had missed. If he survived this ordeal, he thought to himself, he would change. Work had already cost him one marriage and the chance to start a family. That couldn’t be allowed to happen again. Life was too precious, as this sweet baby kept saying in his head, over and over again. Dimly, Vernon was aware of some people at the table behind her, but in his mindset this apparition was all that mattered. She practically glowed, which was mostly down to the fact that Vernon’s blood pressure was all over the place and it had left him with tunnel vision. ‘Take me home,’ he added, and promptly began to weep. ‘Show me the way. I’m ready!’
In response, the little girl patted at the window with both hands. The private investigator let his head slump against the glass. By now, his tears were falling freely. At the same time, he heard startled voices from inside the kitchen, along with the scraping of chairs. He was also aware of activity spilling out of the shed but nothing could move him from that moment. Vernon English lifted his eyes, found the little girl looking over him, and just then it felt like a blessing.
Titus Savage was as surprised as everyone else to see the central ingredient at the window. As soon as Vernon came to his attention, he kicked back his chair and rose to his feet.
‘Ivan,’ he muttered under his breath, before repeating his name at full volume.
‘What’s he done now?’ asked Sasha, who turned to face the French windows. ‘Oh.’
Angelica was quick to pluck her youngest daughter away, as if the man on the other side of the glass might harm her.
‘Unless Ivan’s planning on a surprise barbeque,’ she hissed at her husband, ‘you really need to get that man indoors.’
Titus didn’t need to be told. He hauled open the French windows, slipped his hands under Vernon’s arms and then dragged him over the threshold. At the same time, Ivan rushed breathlessly onto the patio behind him.
‘Is this a feast?’ asked Titus angrily. ‘Or a fiasco?’
Ivan glared at the man his father was now supporting.
‘He’d better taste good,’ the boy muttered. ‘All the trouble he’s caused.’
Vernon turned to Titus, who was practically holding him upright.
‘I eat a lot of junk food,’ he said, sounding faintly delirious now. ‘That can’t be good for you.’
‘You’ll be fine as a one-off,’ said Titus, sounding clipped. ‘So long as you’re part of a balanced diet.’
As he spoke, Oleg shuffled in from the patio. It had taken him all this time to join his family. Sasha was quick to find her grandfather a chair, which he accepted gratefully.
‘So,’ he said, and turned his attention to Titus. ‘We got a live one, eh?’
‘Not for much longer,’ growled Ivan, and crossed the kitchen for
the knife rack. ‘I won’t let you down this time, Dad,’ he said, and reached for the largest blade.
Vernon squeaked like a cornered mouse, and fainted backwards. Titus caught him as he fell, and glowered at his son.
‘At least he won’t see it coming,’ he said as Ivan approached with the knife raised in both hands. ‘Just get it right this time. I’ve been working up an appetite all day.’
Outside the Savage residence, as stars began to prick the sky, Jack Greenway pressed the doorbell and then took a step back. He glanced over his shoulder. Across the street, standing in the park, the young woman he had come here to impress watched intently.
Man, he thought to himself, Amanda was sex on legs. It was a shame she had a screw loose, but he could live with that. All he had to do was spend a few minutes inside the house. So long as he left in a hurry, it would be easy to convince her that he had murdered a meat eater. Just to be sure, he had picked up a vial of fake blood from the joke section of the local toy store. On leaving, he’d dip behind Mr Savage’s 4x4 and flick it over his chinos or something. It would be enough to convince Amanda that he had carried out her wishes. He’d also have to ditch his trousers, which Jack hoped would happen in her company.
‘See you on the other side,’ he said quietly, and offered her a wave.
Amanda responded with a scowl, having ordered him not to draw attention to her, and faced the other way. Jack turned back to the door. The Savages were definitely at home. He’d heard some activity inside before ringing, only now it had gone silent. He reached for the doorbell again. Before he could press it, however, the front door opened up.
‘You again?’ It was Ivan. Sasha’s kid brother. Immediately Jack remembered the stunt the boy had pulled with the camomile tea and reminded himself that he wasn’t here for payback. He forced a cheery smile. Ivan responded by flattening his lips. ‘We’re busy,’ he said, and moved to close the door.
Jack responded by placing his foot in the boy’s way.
‘I have something for Sasha,’ he said, and produced her earring. ‘She left it in my car the other day.’
For a second time, Ivan tried to close the door. He did so with such force that Jack was moved to push back to stop his foot from being crushed. At the same time, he heard urgent whispers from the kitchen.
‘She isn’t here,’ said Ivan, glaring at him. ‘I’m home alone.’
All of a sudden, Jack began to worry that his simple plan was falling apart. He only needed a very short time inside the house, only now he couldn’t get beyond the threshold. Mindful that Amanda would be watching from a distance, Jack took it upon himself to barge past Ivan and into the hallway.
‘Look, I know you have a special meal on this evening,’ said Jack pleadingly, and clicked the door shut. ‘This really won’t take a moment.’
‘But you can’t—’
Before Ivan could protest further, Jack turned and hurried into the kitchen. There, he found Sasha helping her mother at the counter while her grandfather played with little Katya in the high chair.
‘Jack!’ Sasha sounded a little tense as she turned to greet him. ‘What a surprise.’
‘I hope I’m not interrupting,’ he said, and opened his palm to show her the earring. ‘I just wanted to return this.’
‘Oh, thanks.’ Sasha snatched it from his hand. She looked at him expectantly. ‘Bye, then.’
So far, Jack calculated that he had been inside the house for all of thirty seconds. It wouldn’t be enough to convince Amanda. He needed several more minutes at least.
‘So,’ he said. ‘You’re entertaining?’
‘Any time now,’ she told him, nodding.
Jack looked over Sasha’s shoulder. He found her mother and grandfather looking at him nervously.
‘Impressive spread,’ he said, and nodded at the side dishes on the counter. ‘What’s on the menu?’
Sasha looked lost for words, which Jack found curious. She turned to Oleg, as if seeking some kind of prompt, who in turn faced Angelica.
‘It’s a surprise,’ she said weakly.
Her explanation hung in the air. Jack looked back at Sasha, and wondered if she was about to be sick. It was then that she glanced around him, just for a moment, but with such tension in her manner that Jack couldn’t resist turning to look for himself.
It wasn’t the fact that Titus Savage was hiding behind the kitchen door that persuaded Jack to yelp in shock and horror. It was the bald and battered figure swaddled in kitchen foil. The one Titus was struggling to restrain with one hand clamped across the man’s mouth.
‘Well, hello again, young man!’ said Titus, as if this was just a regular get-together, only to grimace in pain as the bald guy chomped into his fingers. With a roar, he released his grip to nurse his hand.
‘Don’t let them eat me!’ cried Vernon, and threw himself upon Jack. All of a sudden, the stunned young man found himself smothered and pinned to the butcher’s block. ‘I don’t want to be dinner!’
‘Get off me!’ cried Jack, and tried in vain to push him away. ‘You’re freaks! All of you!’
‘Hey!’ growled Ivan, who had been watching from the hallway. ‘This is our house. Have some respect!’
From underneath Vernon, who had him in a desperate bear hug, Jack glared at Sasha. ‘I always thought there was something weird about you and your family!’ he snarled, his face contorted with shock and anger. ‘Now I know I was right!’
Sasha had been trying in vain to haul Vernon off her ex-boyfriend. When she heard this, however, she let go and took a step away.
‘I really thought I’d lucked out when you first showed an interest in me, Jack. You’re at the top of every girl’s list. You’re good looking—’
‘Thanks,’ Jack said through gritted teeth, still fighting to push the man off him.
Sasha glared at him for interrupting, amazed at the same time that he would even acknowledge her under the circumstances, and then continued with what she had to say.
‘Above all, I admired the fact that you called all the shots about the food you eat. That really sold you to me, but then the whole preaching thing kicked in. It might leave you with a clear conscience, Jack, but no meat-free diet can disguise the fact you’re full of crap.’
‘Got to hell,’ snarled Jack, still pinned to the block. ‘And take this lunatic with you!’
Sasha turned to her father.
‘Jack dumped me for a vegan,’ she told him. ‘Only he never had the courage to be upfront about it.’
‘Is that true?’ Titus focused on Jack, seemingly unconcerned by the gibbering weight on top of him. By now, Vernon had clamped his hands around Jack’s wrists. Nose to nose, he was pleading with him incomprehensibly. ‘You ditched my daughter for a … for a herbivore?’
‘Someone has to think of their figure!’ Once again, Jack attempted to push the sobbing madman away. It was then he remembered that the girl who had seduced him into coming here was watching from the park. ‘Amanda, call the police!’ he bellowed at the top of his voice, hoping she’d be within earshot. Immediately, Angelica rushed to close the French windows to seal in the noise. ‘Call the police, Amanda!’
With one almighty heave, Jack finally succeeded in pushing Vernon aside. The private investigator stumbled backwards, regained his footing and looked around as if expecting another assault. For a moment, nobody moved. Then a noise built in Vernon’s throat. At first, it sounded like a whimper, but slowly grew into a growl and finally a battle cry. Then, without further warning, he scrambled over the kitchen table and charged for the French windows. He was out on the patio before the first shard hit the floor, only to stumble and crash onto his belly. With a thud, the crown of Vernon’s shaved head hit a pottery plant pot.
‘Let him go,’ muttered Titus. ‘The man deserves some breaks in life.’
Hearing this, Angelica faced her husband. He nodded in response, as if some unspoken exchange between them had just determined the fate of the family. It was then that
all eyes turned to Jack. This time, every single member of the Savage household, including baby Kat, stared at him balefully.
‘What?’ he asked, shrinking from their gaze. ‘Sasha, tell them to back off! Even if you’re mad at me because I didn’t tell you we were finished, this is outright intimidation.’ Jack took a step away, only to find himself backed against the butcher’s block.
‘Your comment just then,’ said Sasha quietly. ‘Are you suggesting I’m fat?’
‘I never said that!’ Jack looked around, but found no support from her family. He held out his hands. ‘You’re not fat, Sasha … not yet.’
‘Here we go again,’ said Ivan with a sigh. ‘Another attack on meat eaters.’
‘You’re all crazy,’ Jack spat back, frantic now, and glowered at Sasha once more. ‘I should’ve dumped you after our dinner date!’
To his surprise, Sasha smiled to herself and nodded.
‘You might have helped me see the light as a vegetarian,’ she said, sounding strikingly calm. ‘But right now what I need is comfort food.’
‘Look, just let me go and you can all get back to your supper.’
‘That won’t be possible,’ said Titus calmly, and nodded at Ivan. ‘If you leave now,’ he added, as the boy produced the knife once again, ‘we’ll have no main course.’
‘Jack has been trying to turn vegan,’ Ivan pointed out, like this might be a problem. ‘And there’s no time to properly prepare him.’
Titus didn’t once let his gaze slip. If anything, his eyes slowly narrowed. Such was the overwhelming menace in his glare that Jack just froze and whimpered.
‘Think of him as corn fed,’ he said, and stood aside for his son. ‘Corn fed and rustic.’
Amanda Dias heard the cry for help. She had been sitting on the park bench at the time. At first, she chose to ignore it. If Jack Greenway had attempted to carry out a killing, she wanted no part of it if something had gone wrong. Instead, she clasped her hands and focused on the ducks settling in the twilight.
There was something delicious about this moment, she thought to herself. That somebody would commit the ultimate crime for a cause she believed in passionately left her feeling so powerful. Amanda was beyond the law here. Untouchable. The cops would catch up with Jack, of course, and he could protest all he liked that she had set him up to force food ethics onto the agenda. It would never wash in court. There was no evidence beyond his word. Amanda had been sure to check it out, hypothetically, of course, which proved simple as Daddy was a barrister.