Matt Whyman - The Savages

‘What the… Katya !’ Her younger sister was sitting at the doorway. She gurgled happily, before crawling across the kitchen to greet her. ‘You startled me,’ said Sasha, and plucked her from the floor. ‘What are you doing here on your own? Anything could’ve happened to you! Are you OK?’

‘ Mince! ’

The toddler responded by reaching out for the tofu. Sasha turned, but was too late to stop Kat from grabbing it.

‘That’s not mince,’ chuckled Sasha, and leaned away to avoid getting smeared. Katya waved the block in the air, before taking a bite from the corner. ‘I’m not sure you’ll like that… oh! So, you do like that!’

Turning to more important matters, she carried her little sister into the hallway and called out for her grandfather one more time. Again, Sasha received no answer, but this time she took to the staircase. With nobody on the first floor, she continued around to the second flight. Music floated down from the room at the top. It was a mournful orchestral, most likely Russian, which she knew reminded him of many things. Sure enough, she found him under the skylight, facing a black and white photograph of old Leningrad, with his head tipped back as he quietly conducted to himself.

‘Grandpa,’ she said softly, so as not to take him by surprise. When that failed to work, she crossed the room to turn the volume down. As soon as she did so, he dropped his arms and opened his eyes. Sasha tried to look calm and collected for him. ‘Grandpa, is Katya supposed to be in your care?’

‘Of course, he said, smiling at his youngest grandchild. ‘We were just enjoying some music together.’

‘She was downstairs,’ said Sasha cautiously. ‘She must’ve got there all on her own.’

At first, Oleg seemed not to hear her. He stroked Kat’s cheek, and watched her gnawing on something in her hand.

‘So, maybe she was hungry,’ he said eventually. ‘Sure looks like she can prepare herself a snack.’

‘I gave it to her,’ said Sasha. ‘Grandpa, she’s too young to be left alone on the stairs. Anything could’ve happened!’

This time, after a moment to register what she’d just told him, Oleg bowed his head and nodded.

‘I didn’t hear her go,’ he said, toying with his beard. ‘Your mother asked me to watch her for an hour. Maybe that isn’t such a good idea any more.’

Sasha placed her free hand on his shoulder.

‘Kat didn’t come to any harm,’ she said. ‘She’s happy now.’

Oleg glanced up. As he did so, the toddler waved what was left of the tofu block at him.

‘What is that?’ he asked, and took it from her. ‘Should she be eating this? Should anyone?’

‘Let me get rid of that for you,’ Sasha said hurriedly, and reached out to take it from him.

Oleg responded by drawing his hand from her reach. He held it close to his nose, before taking a very slight nibble.

‘It’s a bean curd,’ he said, grimacing slightly. ‘A meat substitute.’

A sense of unease began to rise in Sasha. She looked at Katya, as if hoping the toddler might provide her with an explanation, and then back at her grandfather. He didn’t look upset, however. Just puzzled and even curious. All manner of excuses jumped into Sasha’s head, but somehow nothing seemed to fit. It just felt wrong to lie to a man of his years. She only had to look in his eyes to know that he was awaiting the truth. With her heart stirring, Sasha took a breath and heard her own voice break the silence.

‘I like the taste,’ she said. ‘Actually, I like it a lot.’

Jack Greenway held the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. He glanced in the rear view mirror and cursed.

‘The van’s still with us,’ he muttered, and shifted up a gear. ‘What would anyone want with a kid like you?’

Ivan sat in the passenger seat, his sightline just higher than the dashboard.

‘I’m twelve years old,’ he said. ‘For some men, that makes me kind of hot.’

Jack glanced at his passenger and frowned.

‘So, what do you suggest?’ he asked. ‘Every turn I take, he’s right there behind us. If I take you home, he’ll know where you live.’

‘How about we go to your place?’

‘Then he’ll know where I live!’ Jack swung left without indicating. ‘It’s you he wants, Ivan. I’m just doing you a favour here.’

‘No,’ said Ivan to correct him. ‘I’m helping you out by keeping quiet about your lunch date.’

Jack grimaced to himself.

‘It isn’t what you think,’ he said.

‘What am I thinking?’ asked Ivan, staring straight ahead.

‘You know. That somehow I’m cheating on your sister by sharing a pizza with a friend.’

‘A friend.’ Ivan smiled to himself. ‘Right.’

Jack checked the rear view mirror once again.

‘Do we have to discuss it now?’ he asked. ‘Isn’t it more important that we lose this guy? Let’s not forget that I could’ve just kept my head down when you walked passed. Had I ignored you, chances are right now you’d be at the foot of a pit in that man’s cellar in the dress he’d ordered you to wear.’

‘Let me try my dad again,’ said Ivan, and pulled out his mobile. ‘He makes mincemeat out of creeps like this.’

Jack concentrated on driving while Ivan made the call. Once again, however, the line went to answer machine. Up ahead, a set of traffic lights turned from green to amber.

‘We’re not going to make it,’ muttered Jack.

‘Then put your foot down!’ Ivan urged. ‘It’s our big chance!’

The hybrid could pack a punch. Jack knew that. He was also well aware that jumping lights could lead to a car wreck, not to mention points on his licence and the very real possibility that his father would refuse to pay the increase in insurance. So, rather than floor the accelerator pedal, he coasted to a halt as the lights switched to red. The engine cut out automatically, which left the pair sitting in tense silence.

‘The van is three cars back,’ Jack whispered, as if fearing he might be overheard. He reached for the mirror, turning it slightly for a better look. ‘OK, so now the driver’s door has just opened. The guy is getting out.’ He stopped there and faced Ivan. The boy looked as terrified as he felt.

‘Do something,’ said Ivan.

‘Like what?’ Jack’s voice rose in pitch.

‘Sacrifice yourself.’ Tightening his eyes into a penetrating stare, Ivan held his phone between them. ‘Sacrifice yourself or the next call goes to my sister.’

Earlier, while waiting for the boy to leave the school grounds, Vernon English had bought himself lunch. Parked in the high street, he’d been spoiled for choice. A club sandwich had been tempting, along with a flapjack and a bottle of real lemonade, but with a long afternoon ahead he’d opted for something more filling.

The steak and ale pasty had just come out of the oven. There was no way Vernon could’ve eaten the thing until it cooled considerably, and so he had placed it on the passenger seat. The van had quickly filled with an aroma that made his mouth water. He reached for the wrapper a couple of times, only to pull away on feeling the volcanic heat through his fingertips.

‘I wanted something to eat,’ he grumbled at one point. ‘Not a sample of the earth’s core.’

By the time the private investigator sighted Ivan, and started the engine to trail him, his pasty remained untouched. His plan was to stay with the boy just to see where it led him. If the Savage children were involved in the death of the model, he had decided, then surely they would be struggling. Their parents might’ve been able to play things coolly, as if nothing had happened, but it was different for kids. At that age, you’d have to tell someone. You just couldn’t live without that kind of thing in your head. It would spill out at some point. Vernon felt pretty confident as he pulled out after Ivan. The kid was the key to all this, he felt sure. He had been in the house on the day of the shoot, unlike his older sister, which made him Vernon’s primary person of interest.