Savage Night - Allan Guthrie [62]
"He said as much."
"If he seriously thought those were the remains of his uncle and his brother, he'd be shitting himself, not drinking milk and watching TV. Anyway, we're taking the bodies with us."
"Yeah, okay, but that's not going to make him forget we were here or that he saw a pair of corpses in the hallway."
Effie paused. "There is another option."
Martin raised his eyebrows.
"Take him with us," she said.
"Take him home?"
"Obviously we can't do that—"
"Well, where?"
"I don't know. I was just thinking aloud. If we take him along with us for now, at least it gives us more time to decide what to do with him later."
"Let's clear up, get dressed." Martin looked into the sitting room again. "Jordan's not going anywhere. And I can think more clearly with my trousers on."
***
THEY CLEANED UP as best they could, keeping an eye on the kid. If you didn't know any different, the place looked okay. Far from meticulous, but it would do.
Apart from the interfering little toerag it had been a pretty neat couple of expurgations.
Effie liked that word. She'd had no idea what it meant the first time she'd heard Richie say it and neither did he. But they'd looked it up in a dictionary and discovered it referred to the removal of obscene or offensive material from books. It was only a slight stretch to apply it to the removal of obscene or offensive people from society.
She stood to the side of Jordan's chair, looking at his profile. He was an ugly kid. Pale and too freckly for this time of year. If Richie was here, he'd expurgate him, no qualms at all. She caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Martin appeared in the kitchen doorway, testing the blade of a steak knife with his thumb.
Jordan hadn't seen him. He was staring at the TV, watching a car ad. He said, "They look like bodies, eh?"
The car didn't look like a body. He had to mean what Effie thought he meant. Effie looked at Martin and Martin looked at Jordan, lips pressed together. Jordan turned his head.
Effie said, "What are you talking about?"
"Out in the hallway. In the sheets." He turned back to the TV. "The rubbish."
Martin said, "Don't be silly."
"But that's what they look like." He sipped his milk.
Effie said nothing.
Jordan said, "With the heads cut off."
Holy shit. Was the little fucker taunting them?
Jordan gulped down the rest of his milk, left a frothy white moustache. He got to his feet. "Fraser always drives when he goes away, and his car's out front. And he wouldn't leave his phone. So I don't think he's gone far. Can I have my phone back now?"
Effie'd done everything she could to save the wee shite's life. There didn't seem to be any way round it now. He'd have to go. "You're wrong," she said. "They're not bodies." Denial. The last resort of the coward.
"I'm not stupid."
"You fucking are."
"My dad says Uncle Phil's stupid. I'm not like Uncle Phil. If they're not bodies, let me see inside."
"Your brother went away," Effie said. "With your stupid uncle. Left us in charge of his house. Now shut up and watch TV. Stop talking nonsense."
Jordan wasn't looking at Effie. He was looking at Martin. "Not till I see the rubbish. I want to see what it looks like. Inside."
Martin looked at Effie, handle of the knife gripped tight. He stepped forward. "We can't do that, Jordan. It took a long time for us to wrap up the rubbish all nice and tight like that and we wouldn't want to have to do it all again. Do you understand?"
Jordan turned his head away from Martin, fixed his gaze on the TV. An ad for processed cheese, one of Effie's secret pleasures. Martin couldn't stand the stuff and wouldn't have it in the house. "Can I have my phone?"
Either Jordan was incredibly cold, or despite what he claimed, he'd inherited some of his uncle's genes.
Effie said, "No."
"I already told you I'm not stupid," the little bastard said.
So he was incredibly cold. Good. She'd concentrate on that. Make it easier to do what had to be done.
Fuck you, Dad. Cause this was his doing, she had no doubt, whatever she'd said to Martin and however