Dead & Buried Read online

  When Alexei offered them work, Milan assumed they would be labouring on building sites, cleaning toilets or picking strawberries in the fields. He certainly didn’t think they’d be doing… this.

  He’d brushed his teeth eight times, but he could still taste the man’s semen. ‘You’ll be looked after,’ Alexei had said. ‘You’ll earn big money.’ Milan couldn’t see how any of the boys were going to earn big money if these were the conditions they were being kept in. ‘Just until we can get you into a hotel,’ Alexei told him.

  They’d been told they were not to discuss their clients at any time — even to each other. That was fine with Milan. He didn’t want to tell anyone about this. Not ever.

  It had taken him a good couple of minutes to accept what he was being asked to do. Alexei had sat them both down separately and told them there were some very wealthy people who had certain needs, and they were willing to pay good money for those needs to be fulfilled. This was big business, Alexei told them. What did it matter about the work? So you had to suck a few cocks every now and again. Big deal. This sort of thing went on all the time, but most people didn’t get paid handsomely for it.

  Many of the men just wanted company, Alexei said. Despite that, they’d still pay well. Others might want more in the future, but they could cross that bridge when they came to it.

  Milan’s first client had been described to him only as Robert. One of the other boys, Andrew, the only English person he’d met since he came here, took Milan to one side and told him Robert was a High Court judge. Milan wasn’t up to speed with the intricacies of the British legal system, but even he could work out that the High Court was pretty important.

  ‘Got to look after these guys properly,’ Andrew had said. ‘They’re very important people.’

  Milan’s English was only conversational, but he understood the subtleties in what his new English friend was telling him.

  The rest of it, he tried to forget. Zoran didn’t seem to be as worried, and if it hadn’t been for his friend telling him it really didn’t matter — it was their opportunity to make some good money — he would’ve said no to Alexei and walked out there and then. At least, that’s what he’d keep telling himself.

  He got the distinct impression they wouldn’t just be allowed to leave of their own accord. When they’d arrived, the front door had been locked behind them and they’d been led to their room. The clients wouldn’t come to their room, Alexei told them. That’s what the entertaining rooms were for.

  Their room was down a narrow corridor, off which were another three rooms and a communal bathroom. The room at the end was Andrew’s, but he hadn’t seen the doors of the others open at all since they’d arrived last night. The entertaining rooms were at the other end of the building, past the lobby, which was manned by a woman Milan thought was either Russian or Ukrainian.

  He looked over at Zoran again, cursing him for sleeping so soundly. He leaned over the edge of his hard mattress and kicked his friend gently with the heel of his foot.

  ‘Zoran,’ he said. ‘Are you awake?’

  ‘I am now. What do you want?’ Zoran replied, the pair whispering in Serbian.

  ‘We need to go. We can’t stay here.’

  ‘Go where?’ Zoran said, rubbing his eyes. ‘Do you even know where we are? Which part of the country this is?’

  ‘No, but we can’t stay here. We can’t do this.’

  ‘What do you want to do? Walk around and find a nice hotel that’s going to put us up for free? Maybe they’ll give us a job too. They won’t mind that we don’t have ID or passports or anything. Come on, man. Be serious. We have a roof over our heads, we’re going to get paid good money, then we can go and do anything we like. It’ll do for a few weeks.’

  ‘Weeks? I can’t stay here another day. I can’t… How could you even do those things we had to do?’

  Zoran shrugged. ‘Closed my eyes and didn’t think about it. It’s just the same as doing it to yourself.’

  ‘I still can’t get the taste out of my mouth,’ Milan said, not really listening to what his friend was saying.

  ‘Taste?’

  ‘Yeah, didn’t you have to…?’ Milan said, gesturing the action with his hand and mouth.

  ‘Jesus, no. Just the hand, man.’

  All of a sudden, Milan felt incredibly sick.

  ‘Shit, I wouldn’t do that,’ Zoran said. ‘Not in a million years.’

  ‘You wait til you get this Robert guy, then.’

  ‘Is that what you had to do? You had to suck the guy off?’

  Milan tried not to retch as Zoran said the words. ‘I thought that’s what you had to do, too.’

  ‘Jesus. No.’

  ‘Zoran, we can’t stay here. I’m serious. What if they… want more?’

  ‘More?’ Zoran’s eyes flickered, and Milan could see he was starting to understand what he was hinting at.

  ‘Zoran, I’m going. Are you coming with me or not?’

  Milan watched as Zoran swallowed, pursed his lips and nodded.

  14

  Milan pulled down the handle on the door and pulled it towards him, the paintwork on the doorframe catching as the door finally gave way with a small thud. He peered through the gap and down the corridor. The coast was clear.

  He signalled to Zoran, and opened the door.

  They’d decided it was best to leave their rucksacks in the room. All they had was a spare change of clothes and a couple of chocolate bars. Nothing that couldn’t be replaced. Being caught walking down the corridor with all their belongings would look far too suspicious. They had to be careful how they handled this. The girl at the front desk would be easy enough to overpower. Then it was just a case of taking the keys off her and letting themselves out.

  They’d both been champion sprinters in their school back home, and they were pretty sure they’d have no trouble outrunning anyone who gave chase. Whatever happened, they at least had to try.

  They walked to the end of the corridor and opened the door that led into the lobby. Milan looked up and tried to hold back the gasp that attempted to escape his lips.

  The girl working the lobby had been replaced by a man, and a huge man at that. He looked over at Milan and Zoran and his eyes narrowed.

  ‘What do you want? Get back to your rooms.’

  ‘Do you have any cigarettes?’ Zoran said, sensing that Milan was about to completely clam up.

  ‘Cigarettes?’

  ‘We haven’t had a smoke for hours. We can’t sleep without a cigarette first, and we want to be well rested for tomorrow.’

  Milan was impressed with his friend’s sincerity and acting abilities.

  The man looked them both up and down, then reached under the counter for a packet of cigarettes.

  ‘These will come off your allowance, you realise that?’

  Zoran nodded.

  ‘And you smoke the fucking things outside in the back yard. We don’t need you stinking out the building with this, alright?’

  Zoran and Milan both nodded.

  The man gestured for them to follow him, through a door behind the desk and down another corridor. Milan noted a fire extinguisher attached to the wall about five or six metres from the end of the corridor. When they got to the end, the man took a bunch of keys from his pocket and started to look for the key to the back yard.

  Milan nodded to his friend, who launched himself at the man, jumping onto his back and pummelling his fists into his head.

  Milan turned his attention to the fire extinguisher. He tried to wrestle it free from the wall, but it was jammed tight onto its mounts. He looked over just in time to see the man easily throw Zoran from his back, his friend landing awkwardly in a heap on the floor.

  He watched as the man aimed one, two, three kicks at Zoran’s abdomen, the fire extinguisher still struggling to come free.

  With Zoran groaning on the floor, the man turned to Milan and marched over to him with a look of pure fury on his face. Thinking quickly, Mi
lan pulled the yellow pin out of the fire extinguisher, aimed the hose at the man’s face and clamped the handle down.

  The jet of foam hit the man square in the face and made him stagger into the wall. With one final effort, Milan wrenched the fire extinguisher from the wall, brought it back behind him and swung through the foamy fog towards where he thought the man’s head might be.

  The sickening thud that followed told Milan he’d hit his target. He stamped and kicked wherever he could, trying to inflict as much damage as possible. He brought the fire extinguisher down again, again, again, listening to the crunch of bone and cartilage.

  ‘Zoran. The keys. Get the keys.’

  Zoran crawled to his knees and retrieved the keys from the man’s hands, just as the door to the lobby flew open. Two men came charging towards them.

  ‘The door! Open the fucking door!’ Milan yelled to his friend, as he unleashed another cloud of foam in the direction of their two new assailants.

  After what seemed like an age, Milan felt the air rush in behind him and the light flood down the corridor as the door swung open.

  Hurtling the fire extinguisher in the general direction of the two men, he turned and fled.

  15

  Jack Culverhouse let out a sigh and turned back two pages, scanning the paragraphs to work out at which point he’d lost concentration this time. Military history wasn’t usually his thing, and he cursed Steve for having even suggested the book in the first place. Personally, he couldn’t give two shits about Gallipoli, but it got better, Steve had assured him. Honestly, by the end he’d be gripped. Gripped by a bloody coma, perhaps.

  The ping of an incoming text message on his phone would more often than not go completely ignored, but this time Jack was grateful for the distraction. He didn’t recognise the number on the screen, so unlocked his phone and opened the message.

  Hi Jack. Just wondered if you still wanted to meet for drinks. I’ll supply the white wine vinegar. Cx

  He’d forgotten all about meeting Chrissie yesterday. His mind had been completely occupied by Operation Counterflow. During a big case, it was rare that he was able to concentrate on much else. He knew it probably didn’t help, and that allowing his brain time to think and work problems out in the background would likely be more beneficial. That was easier said than done, though.

  The most disturbing cases would keep him awake at night. That was particularly the case if they thought more people were in danger the longer it took the police to catch the killer. With this case, they just didn’t know. It was likely — as most murders were — to be a one-off, but Jack had experienced a few serial murder cases in his career and the fear was always there that the next case might be another.

  He decided the best thing to do would be to stall Chrissie. He’d found her attractive and strangely intriguing, but something was telling him to hang fire for a bit. He knew it was daft to be so worried about getting involved with a woman, especially as she was only asking him round for a drink, but his fears remained. Besides which, he always felt strangely guilty enjoying himself when he was meant to be working round the clock for a victim’s family. This time, he had two victims’ families to work for.

  He hit Reply and tapped out a response.

  That sounds lovely, but can’t do anything in the next few days. Work has gone mad — will explain when we meet. X

  He always felt strange ending a text message with a kiss, but Chrissie had done it and apparently it was polite to respond in kind.

  Her response came back quickly.

  I know that feeling. I have to force myself to take time out. Hasn’t your boss heard of the Working Time Directive? Cx

  You can try asking him. I wouldn’t like to. X

  What if I told him you were going to meet me for drinks tomorrow night? Cx

  He was trying to think of a witty response to reply back with when he heard the sound of a key opening the front door.

  ‘Alright?’ he called out to Emily as she walked through into the living room.

  ‘Yeah. Think so. You?’

  ‘Slowly being destroyed from the inside out. The usual. Had a good day?’

  Emily shrugged. ‘Yeah, nothing special. Is there any food?’

  ‘Bit of shepherd’s pie left in the oven. Probably gone a bit crusty by now, though. I didn’t know what time you were coming back.’

  ‘S’alright. Can’t beat a crusty shepherd’s pie,’ Emily replied from the kitchen.

  ‘That’s just because you’re getting too used to my cooking.’

  Jack turned his attention back to his mobile phone, but no witty responses were coming to him. A few moments later, Emily came back into the living room with a plate of shepherd’s pie and sat down in the armchair.

  ‘Not good news?’ she asked him.

  ‘Mmmm?’

  ‘That face you’re pulling. You do that when you don’t know what to say.’

  ‘What face?’

  ‘That one. The pursed lips and the half-forced smile. You’ve always done it.’

  It was comments like that which made Jack wonder how much Emily really remembered of her younger years with him, before Helen upped sticks and left, taking Emily with her.

  ‘I can almost see the cogs turning,’ Emily said. ‘It looks painful.’

  ‘Lovely. Thanks.’

  ‘You’re trying to think of a response to something, aren’t you? Who’s texted you?’

  Jack laughed. ‘You ever thought of signing up for police training college?’

  ‘Nope. Couldn’t stand the complete and utter destruction of my soul.’

  ‘Charming.’

  ‘So go on, then. Who is it?’

  ‘Who’s what?’

  ‘The text or email you’ve received. The one you’re looking at right now. And don’t say you’re not.’

  Sometimes, when he was worrying about how he was struggling to work Emily out, she’d throw him a curveball like that and realise she was usually at least five steps ahead of him.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ he said, hoping she’d change the subject.

  ‘Yeah right. It’s a woman, isn’t it?’

  Jack tried to catch the involuntary upward flick of his eyebrows, but couldn’t quite stop it in time.

  ‘Knew it,’ Emily said. ‘Go on. What’s her name?’

  ‘It’s not like that. It’s just a friend, so don’t go getting excited.’

  Emily shovelled another forkful of shepherd’s pie into her mouth. ‘I’m not getting excited. I’m just trying to make sure you don’t fuck it up, that’s all.’

  ‘Oh, charming.’

  ‘No offence.’

  ‘No, none taken,’ he replied, laughing a little.

  ‘So what’s her name?’

  Jack sighed. ‘Chrissie.’

  ‘Oooh, nice. She sounds… vivacious.’

  ‘Vivacious?’

  ‘Yeah, you know. Lively. Fun.’

  Jack laughed again. ‘I know what vivacious means. I just don’t see how you managed to get that from her name. And most worryingly, you were probably right.’

  ‘Thought so. Tell me about her.’

  ‘She’s vivacious.’

  Emily shot him a look that said she wasn’t impressed.

  ‘That’s about all I know,’ he said, locking his phone and putting it face-down on the arm of the sofa. ‘I only met her yesterday.’

  ‘At work?’

  ‘At the supermarket.’

  ‘Ohh, nice. They say they’re the best places to meet new lovers.’

  ‘Well “they” can get stuffed. We got along and swapped numbers, that’s all. Easier than meeting once a week by the Pot Noodles.’

  ‘And do you like her?’

  ‘I don’t know her. She wants to meet for drinks, but I’ve got a lot on.’

  ‘Yeah, looks like it.’

  ‘Well pardon me for having a rest at the end of a long day.’

  ‘Drinks are restful. Meet her for drinks. Has she suggested a day
or time?’

  Jack sighed. He wasn’t going to get anywhere by being oblique. Emily would always manage to see right through it.

  ‘She asked about meeting up tomorrow.’

  ‘And you’re trying to get out of it, right?’

  ‘I’m trying to work out the best way to approach things.’

  ‘Sorry, Dad. That’s horse shit. If she was just a friend you wouldn’t need to worry about the best way to approach things. And if she was potentially more than a friend you shouldn’t risk fucking it up by trying to get out of meeting her.’

  Jack looked at his daughter for a few moments. ‘Em, you’re fourteen.’

  ‘Exactly. I know how the world works by now. What are you doing tomorrow night?’

  ‘I dunno. Depends what time I finish work.’

  ‘Who’s the lead officer on the case?’

  ‘Em… Don’t start.’

  ‘Exactly. You are. So you decide what time you finish work.’

  ‘It’s not as easy as that. I can’t just pack up my bags at five o’clock and go home.’

  ‘No, but you can pack them and go to Chrissie’s.’

  ‘It’s not quite that simple.’

  ‘Course it is. I want you to, Dad. I want you to have drinks with her. I want you to be happy.’

  Jack looked at his daughter. He’d never heard her speak like this before. If her keenness to see him meet with Chrissie was because she wanted him to be happy, how could he possibly say no?

  ‘I’ll see what time I get. No promises. And that’s the end of it, alright?’

  Emily raised her eyebrows and went back to watching the TV.

  Jack typed out a text message and sent it to Chrissie.

  Tomorrow sounds great. Let me know the details x

  16

  Zoran and Milan had been hiding in the bushes for what felt like hours, but must have been far less. The obvious thing to do would have been to keep running down the road and go as far as they could, but there was no way they could outrun someone in a car.