Part 17 (2/2)

Behind a row of motor-oil cans they found a roll of plastic and some old ballast bags, some tape and a Stanley knife. They carried it all back to the parking area and unrolled the plastic on the ground next to the body.

'Take his feet.'

'Oh, G.o.d.' She stood a yard away, staring at the body. Her teeth were chattering. 'I don't know if I can.'

'Sally,' Steve said steadily. 'You can do it. I know you can I saw you the other day with that hacksaw. You can do this.'

'We're really going to do it, then? Really not report it and just get the money?'

He raised an eyebrow. 'You tell me. You could have called the police but you didn't.'

She closed her eyes and put her fingers on her temples. He was right, of course. She could have called the police at any time. Had she decided already subconsciously that this was what they'd do?

'But ...' She opened her eyes. 'Is it the right thing? Steve? Is it?'

'How do you quantify right? Is it the legal thing? No. But is it the best thing? You'll get thirty K for offing this old pervert. Is that the best thing? You tell me.'

Sally didn't answer. She kept her attention on David's face. Pale and rigid now. His eyes had changed. They no longer had a s.h.i.+ne to them, the way normal eyes did. They were cloudier and flatter, she thought, as if they were sinking backwards into his skull. Earlier she'd seen a fly try to land on the right one. An image popped into her mind. A bruise. It was on the thigh of the girl that had been on the floor of the livestock pen. Just a single bruise, but it came at her like a punch.

'OK.' She came forward, rolling up her sleeves. 'What do I do?'

David was heavy, but he wasn't going stiff the way she'd imagined he would. Steve said not enough time had pa.s.sed for that to happen. The body flopped around as they tried to move it, his arms lolling all over the place, but eventually they got him on to the plastic sheet. They folded it around him like a coc.o.o.n and lifted him into the boot of Steve's Audi. Then Steve searched in the pool-maintenance shed until he found two buckets and, for the next twenty minutes, the two of them toiled up and down the path from the outdoor tap to where the body had lain, sluicing the ground with bucket after bucket of water until the blood, hair and urine had been rinsed into the ground.

Steve got into the Audi and put the key in the ignition. 'Is there a back way to yours? A way we don't have to use main roads?'

'Yes. Follow me.'

She got into the Ka and reversed back along the track to the lane. The Audi headlights followed her. The countryside was pitch black now, a low cloud covering the moon. She took the switch-backs and narrow lanes that crisscrossed the land. They got back to Peppercorn Cottage without seeing another car. The porch light was on it looked so welcoming that she had to remind herself there was nothing warm on the stove, no candles in the window or fires in the grates. That she and Steve weren't going to spend the evening eating a meal or watching TV or chatting over a gla.s.s of wine. She stopped the car in the driveway, got out and pushed wide the doors of the huge garage for Steve to drive the Audi through. He cut the engine and got out, pulling off his gloves.

'I never noticed this before.'

'Because I never use it.' She switched on the light just a bare bulb in the rafters that did nothing except illuminate the spiders' webs and fossilized swifts' nests. There were a few rusty tools that the previous owner had left. Steve walked along the racks, checking them all. He stopped at a chainsaw, took it off its hook and examined it.

'Steve?'

He looked round at her. 'Get us a drink.'

'What would you like?'

'Something clean. Whisky. Not brandy.'

Inside the cottage smelt of candlewax and the blue hyacinths Millie had potted. They sat on one of the window-sills, drooping. Sally stood for a moment, her head resting against the cool plaster wall, looking at the flowers. After a while she took off her shoes and rested them on a carrier bag in the corridor, then rolled up her coat and pushed it into a bin liner. She walked in her socks to her bedroom with the bag and stripped to her underwear, adding all her blood-soaked clothes to the bin liner. Then she found a T-s.h.i.+rt and a pair of ski pants she'd bought for one of Julian's business trips to Austria, pulled them on, shoved her feet into trainers, and went back down the corridor, looping her hair into a ponytail. She got towels from the airing cupboard and a pile of tea-towels from the cupboard under the sink. The whisky was at the back of the cupboard, behind all of Millie's school books. Sally hadn't touched it since they'd arrived, she only really kept it for visitors. She rested the bottle on the towels, added two gla.s.ses to the pile, a plastic bottle of sparkling water, and carried it outside.

The moon had broken through the clouds and as she crossed the lawn the awful beauty of the garden hit her. It had always reflected warmth and health back to her, even in the depth of winter, but now it seemed to be the silvery reflection of something old and sickly. She stopped for a moment and turned her face to the west, thinking she might catch something watching her. The fields on the other side of the hedge, which always seemed friendly, tonight were full of shadows she didn't recognize.

Steve was standing in the garage with the boot open. In the electric light his face was yellow hollow under the eyes. She put down the towels and poured two gla.s.ses of whisky not too much and handed one to him. They stood facing each other, held up their drinks as if they were toasting something good and drained the tumblers. She grimaced at the taste of it and took a hurried swig of the water.

'We've got to put him outside. On the gra.s.s.'

Sally lowered the water bottle. 'Why?'

'Just help me. Get the plastic.'

They put the bottle and the empty tumblers on the window-sill and pulled on their rubber gloves. Together they went to the boot, got hold of each end of the plastic coc.o.o.n and pulled. David's body came rolling forward with one hand up, almost as if he knew he was toppling on to the ground. Steve caught his weight, wincing at the pressure on his wounded hand, then together they lowered the body. Through the plastic David's face was visible, as though he was pressing it against a window.

'Jesus.' Steve wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He looked sick. 'Jesus.'

Sally stared at him. He couldn't give in. Not now, after what they'd already done. There was no going back.

'Steve?'

'Yeah.' He wiped his forehead again. Gave himself a shake. 'OK,' he said, suddenly sharp. 'Roll up your end.'

'Right. Yes. Of course.'

They knotted the ends of the plastic and between them shuffled the body out of the garage on to the driveway. They walked sideways, down the two stone steps that led to the lawn, struggling with the weight.

'Here,' Steve said, and they dropped the bundle in the middle of the gra.s.s.

He straightened and looked around him. There were no lights as far as the eye could see, only the first stars p.r.i.c.king at the sky. He felt in his pocket and brought out his phone, flicked it on with his thumb. Holding it in one hand, he walked around the body, firing off photos, making sure he got the face from every angle.

'What're you doing?'

He gave a grim smile. 'I haven't a clue. I'm just pretending I'm in the movies. Pretending I'm de Niro. Or Scorsese. Doing what one of their hitmen would do.'

'Oh,' She rubbed her arms. 'G.o.d.'

He crouched again, and gingerly inspected David's right hand.

'What is it?'

'His signet ring. With four diamonds and an emerald. It identifies him.' He took several photos of the ring then pulled it off and slipped it into his pocket. Then he pocketed the camera and shuffled sideways. He hooked his index finger behind David's front teeth and, with his other hand, cautiously prised the lower jaw open. He pulled the face to one side. The corpse gave a long, soft sigh.

Sally shrank back against the car. David's head fell sideways, slack on the ground, his eyes staring.

'It's OK,' Steve murmured. 'Really it's OK. It's just air coming out of his lungs.'

Sally sank to a crouch, trembling. Steve licked his lips and went back to exploring inside David's mouth. He tilted his chin down and squinted inside, grunted approvingly.

'That'll do.'

He put his elbow on the gra.s.s and lay almost full length next to David's body, facing him as if they were going to have a long and involved conversation. With his free hand he fumbled out the phone again and spent almost five minutes photographing the face and teeth. When he had finished he got to his feet and looked at Sally.

'What?' she hissed. 'What now? What happens now?'

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