Stuart MacBride - A Dark So Deadly

Callum took out his phone. ‘Thanks.’

She walked over and patted her father on the shoulder. ‘Dad?’

He flinched. Turned, blinking up at her. ‘Sophie?’

‘No, Dad, it’s Emma. Remember? Emma?’ She turned and held out a hand. ‘These nice police officers want to have a chat with you. OK?’

‘I’m busy. Tell them to come back tomorrow.’ He went back to scribbling.

She pulled a face at Callum, mouthing, ‘Told you.’ Then back to her father. ‘Come on, Dad, it’ll only take a minute. Do you need anything? A cup of tea? Some juice?’

‘Sophie, I can’t find my hat.’

‘OK, I’ll leave you to it then.’ She kissed him on top of the bald spot. ‘I’ve got manky freezers to clean out.’ A small shudder, then she was gone.

Callum pulled out the chair on the other side of the table and sank into it. ‘Mr Travis.’

No response, just more scribbling.

He produced his wallet and opened it. Laid it on the table between them, turned so the MacGregor family photo was the right way up for Travis. ‘Do you recognise these people?’

‘There’s no point wriggling, little rabbit boy. You’re for the pot whether you like it or not.’

‘Look at the photograph, Mr Travis.’

‘Don’t eat me. Please don’t eat me.’

‘A mother, a father, and two little boys.’

‘Don’t be silly, I’m hungry . And you’re a tasty little morsel, all plump and delicious.’

‘Mr Travis!’

‘But you can’t eat me. I’m... I’m full of venomous poison. If you eat me, you’ll swell up like a massive balloon and pop!’

Shannon sighed. ‘He’s not even in the room.’

‘You’ll pop and there’ll be bits of ogre all over the walls and ceiling. And... and your heart will turn black and the crows will take it away to the bonegarden.’

‘TRAVIS!’ Callum slammed his hand down on the tabletop.

The old man flinched, head snapping up like a trap. Eyes wide. ‘I don’t know you. Why are you here?’

‘Do you recognise them? This family, right here. Twenty-six years ago.’

‘Where’s Sophie? Where’s my wife?’ He blinked. Frowned at Shannon. Then back to Callum. ‘I don’t want to die.’

For God’s sake.

Now that he was sitting upright, the sheet of paper he’d been scribbling on was visible. He’d drawn a long-eared rabbit in the middle of it, then surrounded it with the same words over and over: ‘KILL AND EAT. DESTROY AND CONSUME. SIN AND INNOCENCE.’

McAdams was right — Travis was obsessed.

One more go. ‘Do you recognise this family?’

‘They’re happy little rabbits. Hopping in the sun. Look at their white tails flashing.’

‘Yeah.’ Shannon sucked air in through his clenched teeth. ‘I’d suggest throwing him down the stairs a few times, but I don’t think it’d help.’

‘They run and they frolic beneath the happy summer skies. Mummy Rabbit, Daddy Rabbit, and little Justin.’

Callum closed his wallet again. Stuck it back in his pocket. ‘You’re getting your books mixed up. Justin was a little boy, before he got cursed by the witch. He never had a rabbit mum and dad — they were people.’

‘Into the pot you go, little rabbits.’

‘Sorry.’ Shannon put his hand on Callum’s shoulder. ‘It was a longshot anyway.’

‘So I can’t touch Leo McVey, and R.M. Travis is...’ A sigh. ‘What’s the point? Even if it was him we couldn’t put him on trial. And no one’s sending him to prison like this.’

‘Please don’t eat us, we promise we’ll be good!’

Callum pulled himself to his feet. ‘Thank you for your time, Mr Travis. I loved your books when I was growing up. But I don’t think I’ll be able to read one ever again.’

‘What’s the point of catching a rabbit if you don’t eat it?’

‘Come on.’ Shannon steered him away from the table. ‘We’ll go crack open a nice bottle of wine and bitch about the good old days.’

Travis scowled at them. ‘Who are you? What did you do with my hat?’

Never meet your heroes.

They made their way back through the house.

‘It was just a rumour anyway.’ Shannon gave Callum’s shoulder a squeeze. ‘Gareth Pike was actually there and he saw Leo McVey. So that’s what we focus on now.’

‘I can’t go near McVey without a warrant. And he’ll lawyer up, soon as I do.’

Past the fancy kitchen and all the framed foreign-edition covers.

‘So we go digging. My OAP network isn’t the spryest, but never underestimate the power of bloody-minded old codgers with a lot of free time on their hands. We’ll dig into McVey’s past till we find something. Then use it to squeeze him till he squeaks.’

They stepped out through the front door and into a thin drizzle.

‘Thanks, Bob. I appreciate it.’

‘We’ll get him. I promise.’ Shannon unlocked the car.

‘Yeah.’ Callum sagged. Then turned. ‘Suppose I’d better tell the daughter we’re away.’

The back of the hatchback was still gaping open, most of the boot packed with black plastic bags. Not the thin domestic ones — proper thick rubble sacks. Because who wanted their car full of manky rotting meltwater?

He stepped into the garage and the cloying smell of turned meat.

Pff... Place was bigger than his whole flat.

Well, what used to be his flat.

Shelves and storage on one wall, a dusty green Range Rover dominating half the space. White paint on the concrete floor. A rack full of golf bags and clubs near a door that had to lead back into the house. A large collection of tinned beans, hot dogs, peas, macaroni cheese, jars of pickled beetroot, onions, mustard... Callum picked a tin of peaches off the shelf and blew a blizzard of grey off the faded label. Best before June 2001. Yeah. Maybe not.

A row of chest freezers and a couple of uprights sat along the back wall. Some lying open, others still sealed shut.

Emma Travis-Wilkes was bent over one of them, delving into its stinky depths. Divorced — and available — bum wiggling as she reached. A pair of rubble sacks sat on the ground beside her, one full and tied, the other still waiting for more rancid gifts.

He held up the tin of peaches. ‘I see what you mean about hoarding food.’

‘Gah!’ She straightened up with a start. A freezer bag splotched to the concrete at her feet, sending a spatter of brown liquid out as it split. She turned, stepped in front of it. ‘You startled me.’

‘Sorry. Just wanted to say we’re going.’

‘Right. OK. Well... thanks for letting me know.’ She eased the freezer lid shut behind her. ‘Sorry about the smell. How was he?’

‘Confused.’ Callum took a couple of steps closer. ‘Did he ever mention anything about a family of four? It would have been about twenty-six years ago. They were in a lay-by just outside the city.’

‘No nothing like that.’

‘What about Leo McVey. They used to be close, didn’t they?’

‘I... yes. They hung out all the time. Got stoned and drunk, trashed hotel rooms on every continent. Cocaine, groupies, and rock-and-roll. No wonder Mum left him.’

Another couple of steps. ‘Did he ever say something about McVey that made you suspicious, or worried about him? Something that didn’t sound right?’

‘No. Thick as thieves, that pair. Uncle Leo could’ve crapped in the fish tank and Dad would have sworn it was the cat. And you don’t want to hear the stories of when they went to Las Vegas.’ Emma snapped off her rubber gloves and closed the gap. Stuck her hand out. ‘I’m sorry you had a wasted trip.’

‘Me too.’ He handed her the peaches. Pointed at the rubble sack. ‘I can dump that in the car on my way past. I’m going that way anyway.’