Matt Whyman - The Savages

‘Our boy can be the bait,’ he said after a moment, and then nodded to himself as if he had just road-tested the idea to see how it sounded.

‘What?’ All of a sudden, Ivan didn’t look so confident.

‘Like a goat tethered to a stake,’ suggested Sasha, but their father was on a roll.

‘You don’t have to worry,’ he assured the boy. ‘When our man comes prowling, we’ll be waiting for him. And that’s when he’ll learn how it feels to be preyed upon.’

Vernon English no longer needed an inside ear in the Savage household. The bug had served him well. Titus had probably destroyed it now, but not before the private investigator had heard enough to know that this was a family with one very strange obsession with food.

Given all the hushed conversations he had heard between Angelica and Sasha, it seemed they lived in fear of Titus finding out that his eldest daughter had turned her back on meat. At times, they made out the man was some kind of dietary dictator. Then there was the coroner’s report that Vernon had obtained. It was only a side note, but of major interest to the private investigator, for Lulabelle Hart had been secretly struggling with an acute, long-term eating disorder. Had the model crossed Titus because she didn’t conform to his views, and paid the ultimate price? It was a far-out theory, but not one that Vernon English could easily dismiss.

Once again, the private investigator was alone in the van with his thoughts. There was no way now that he could return to the Savage residence. That Titus had bundled out with what looked like a carving knife only strengthened Vernon’s suspicions that he was dealing with a dangerous man. Besides, Vernon was off duty at that moment. He’d just finished his weekly supermarket shopping. The bags he’d loaded onto the passenger seat contained a range of microwavable suppers that fuelled his work. He’d gone in with good intentions, but ultimately there was nothing in the fresh produce section that appealed. Leaning across, Titus buckled the bags against the seat for the journey back to the flat. Just then, however, it simply reminded him that he had nothing for company but a bunch of ready meals.

‘I wonder what Titus would make of my diet?’ he asked, addressing the shopping as he started up the engine. ‘Not that I have plans to invite him over to eat. You’re all mine, so rest easy.’

It was only as he pulled out of the car park that he realised he had forgotten to buy any ketchup. Unwilling to turn round, Vernon told himself that he would just have to nip out again later. For some time, he’d been meaning to do his shopping online. Only recently, while staking out the Savages, he’d watched a delivery van unloading a week’s groceries for the family. It looked like such a quick and easy way of getting a supermarket shop directly into the house, he reflected, and promptly hit the brakes hard as a plan of action sprang to mind. Several horns sounded behind him, but Vernon paid them no attention whatsoever.

‘Oh, man, you’re good,’ he told himself. With the horns still blaring, Vernon found first gear and moved off again. ‘It’s high time I saw what’s on the menu.’

Jack Greenway had thought long and hard about Amanda’s proposition. Murdering a man was crackers, of course. Still, he had another motive for meeting her in a coffee shop to go through the plan in more detail.

‘That’s an interesting bracelet,’ he said, looking for a way to make her feel special.

Amanda didn’t even glance at her wrist.

‘What you’re about to do takes courage,’ she said quietly, while stirring a vegan gingerbread latte. ‘Naturally, people will be horrified that you’ve taken someone’s life because of what they eat, but if it means they rise up against us then what we’ll have on our hands is a war !’

‘Right,’ said Jack, who was content to go along with Amanda just to see where it would take him. ‘Is that a good thing?’

‘We vegans are morally superior,’ she told him. ‘In a battle for hearts and minds, victory is ours for the taking, and it’ll all be thanks to the provocative actions of one brave soul…’ Amanda stopped there and held his gaze. ‘You’re about to change lives, Jack. Your place in history awaits you.’

Jack stirred his latte as he listened. Amanda had recommended the gingerbread drink, but frankly it didn’t look all that appealing. Still, that wasn’t why he was here. ‘What about afterwards?’ he asked hopefully. ‘Do I hide out in your hall of residence?’

Amanda smiled seductively. At least that’s how Jack tried to read it. In truth he wasn’t really sure.

‘Once the deed is done we’ll go online anonymously, claim responsibility, and then sit back and watch the flames rise.’

‘I see.’ Jack hoped the sitting back bit would take place in her bedroom. ‘Flames.’

‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘you really don’t look like the sort of person with previous criminal convictions. Why should the police suspect you?’

Jack collected his cup in both hands, mindful of his outstanding library fine. Taking a sip, he reminded himself that he had no intention whatsoever of slaying Sasha’s father. He didn’t really think that Amanda was being serious. It was, without a doubt, the talk of a fantasist, Privately, he hoped she was the sort of person who got turned on by indulging in this kind of role play, and that was fine by him. The way Jack saw things, it would be perfectly possible for him to leave the Savage house claiming he had carried out the kill. Even if Amanda was being serious, he thought to himself, that would give him time to reap the rewards before she learned that somehow Titus had survived the attack. The girl was nuts, but just so sexy that it had to be worth playing along with her. The latte sloshed down his oesophagus, leaving an aftertaste of warm cardboard in his mouth.

‘Count me in,’ said Jack. ‘I’d be honoured to go into battle with you.’

‘Good boy,’ said Amanda, and found his ankle under the table with her foot. ‘When can you do it?’

‘Give me a little time,’ said Jack, thinking she would at least need to see him entering the Savage house. That meant he’d have to stop freezing out Sasha and pretend that all was still good between them. ‘As soon as I’m ready,’ he added, ‘you’ll be first to know.’

Angelica Savage began working on the menu with Katya in mind. This feast was in her honour, after all, and so it was important that the choices on offer appealed to her. Sasha found her mother at the kitchen table, with a notepad and pen in hand. She peered over her shoulder, reading the list with interest.

‘Liver pâté biscuit bites,’ she said hungrily. ‘Mum, don’t tempt me!’

Angelica looked round.

‘It would put an end to a lot of problems,’ she said. ‘At some point before this feast, we’re going to have to tell your father why you won’t be joining us.’

Sasha sighed and took the seat beside her. She placed her mobile phone on the table and set it to one side. Katya was in her high chair opposite. She was clutching a wooden spoon, which she dropped to reach across the table for her older sister’s hands.

‘I’ve tried to find the right moment,’ said Sasha, collecting the spoon from the floor, ‘but every time he’s been grumpy about work.’

‘No matter what you say he’ll go crazy,’ replied Angelica. ‘What’s important is that he doesn’t lose sight of the fact that you’re his daughter first and foremost, no matter what you choose to eat.’

Sasha watched her mother writing on the pad.

‘Honey-roast sticky ribs?’ Sasha grinned at Katya. ‘You’re going to love this, but it isn’t making it any easier for me.’