I looked at the dead man, his body lying half in, half out of a puddle of water in the alley. At least, I hoped it was water, although there was the pungent aroma of urine perfuming the air. His eyes were open, holding a look of confusion as if his death had come as a surprise, which to be fair, it must have done. But I felt they were directed at me, which wasn’t fair at all, although, I suppose I was sort of death ‘adjacent’.
I looked at Sally, standing to one side; her dress, if such a small amount of material could be called one, was dishevelled and she was on the verge of tears.
‘What happened?’ I was cross and curt, and tears from Sally’s enormous blue eyes tracked down her face, adding to her air of a tragic angel, small, delicate frame and blonde curls tumbling past her shoulders. This man was probably six foot plus and looked strong.
‘Are you ok? Did he hurt you?’ She shook her head, her lips wobbling. I hoped she wouldn’t start crying noisily. I had enough to do.
‘What happened?’ I repeated. I needed to know the details and quickly.
‘I’m sorreeeee’ she said, her voice a rising wail as she spoke. ‘I didn’t mean to, it was just…’
‘Quiet. Did anyone see you together?’ I interrupted before she could start any loud sobbing that might draw attention. The main road was at the far end of this alleyway, and I could see people passing the entrance, luckily too drunk and busy with each other to look our way.
‘No, I don’t think so.’ She said, unsure.
‘Not good enough. Think.’ Her face crumpled at my voice, but there wasn’t time to be nice. I checked up and down for CCTV: nothing. Good. At least the alley was too dank and dirty to warrant CCTV, the main features of interest being a couple of metal back doors to businesses and some overfull and overripe bins. The main road though, with its multiple restaurants, fast food chains and bars would be rife with cameras. If they had been captured coming down here together there wasn’t much I could do.
‘Let’s start at the beginning. Where were you this evening and where did you meet this…gentleman?’
‘I was in that new club, Nocturne, then I left and went to…’ her voice became babyish and small, as it always did when she knew she was in trouble.
‘’I’? I asked. I needed to know if she was on her own. ‘No friends? I thought you were with Mandy?’ Her face said all I needed to know; supposedly she and Mandy were going to a quiet bar for a few drinks, then home.
‘She couldn’t come, she’s ill.’ She saw my face. ‘It seemed a shame to waste the night?’ she said it as a question, but I shook my head. How many nineteen-year-olds would go out clubbing on their own? Only my sister, of course. We would be having a conversation about that, and this man here, but there was no time now.
‘And then?’ I said, waving my hand to hurry her along.
‘I got bored. So, I left.’ She pouted, obviously disappointed in the club and its attractions.
‘And?’
‘And then I started walking home, along the Crambourne road.’ Crambourne road? That was good, very good, in one significant way. It led to the wrong side of the tracks as the saying goes, and both the speed cameras and CCTVs had been repeatedly smashed to the point the council had given up.
‘So, where does he come in?’ I nudged the man with my shoe.
‘I met him walking home. He seemed nice.’ She looked at me, her eyes wide and innocent. Christ.
I sighed. She continued. ‘He said he liked me and said did I want to go somewhere more private? He said he knew a quiet place.’ I closed my eyes. This was the stuff of nightmares. ‘So, we came here.’ She gestured to the alley as if displaying a trendy bar, with velvet banquettes and seductive lighting. There was some scuffling, a sharp squeal cut short, and a cat jumped down from a bin with a limp rat in its mouth. It obviously wasn’t seduction he’d had in mind.
She looked at me and I raised my brows. ‘So, then he wanted to kiss me. He was rough. I hurt my head on the wall.’ She rubbed the back of her head, ‘And then he put his hands up my…’
‘OK’ I stopped her, hands raised. I couldn’t listen to that. At least I didn’t feel sorry for the man now. The bastard.
‘And then?’ I might as well hear the last bit, although I had already guessed.
Sally looked at the ground. ‘Well, he wasn’t very nice in the end. He said he was, but he wasn’t.’
There it was. ‘Like Mr Roberts?’ I said. Sally gave me a thoughtful look, as if surprised I hadn’t been more outraged on her behalf, then nodded.
‘You know, you said Mr Roberts wasn’t a very nice man, too.’
‘He wasn’t. He kicked Pooty!’ her voice rose with indignation. Pooty, was her white, long haired cat, that she fed cooked chicken pieces to by hand and was the most spoilt, jealous animal in the world. Not that I’d tell her that. And I wouldn’t kick her. Probably. ‘He said he hadn’t seen Pooty but when I looked at the door cam I saw him kick her.’ Her voice hardened and her eyes took ice blue of a glacier, deep and chilling.
‘Yes, I know, you showed me. Afterwards.’ After what happened to Mr Roberts, after he had been found. ‘Kicking Pooty was horrible, but it doesn’t mean…’ I began, but she interrupted me,
‘I’m not sorry. I know what you said, but I don’t care. I’d do it again.’ She folded her arms and looked mulish.
I could feel a headache coming on; I had been guardian for Sally, since eighteen, after our parents had died and a sweeter nine-year-old, you couldn’t meet, but for the last couple of years, she had been…strange; weird moods, wandering late at night, typical late teenage rebellion, so I had thought. And then, the last few weeks had turned darker.
‘So, then?’
Her chin went up and she looked at me down her nose, ‘So, I killed him,’ she said, and a slow smile spread across her face, revealing perfect white teeth.
I shook my head, refusing to smile back. This was getting to be a bad habit. She stamped her foot.
‘Oh, please don’t be angry.’ Her baby voice was back, ‘What should we dooo? I don’t want to go to prison.’ She started crying again.
‘That’s what I’m working on. How did you kill him? It’s important – for evidence,’ I said, as I saw her frown. She didn’t like talking about it, about how she…did it. She said it was private. At least that’s what she had said about Mr Roberts.
And Richard.
‘The usual way.’ She folded her arms, but I raised my brows again. ‘Oh’ she huffed, annoyed. ‘I took his soul as he held me. Skin contact. Okay?’ she demanded, as if I was being unreasonable. She had been reluctant to share the mechanics with me, with the others, until I had insisted if she wanted help, I needed details.
‘Okay. Good. I mean, not good-good, but…you know…’
‘…yes, evidence.’ She finished, sarcastically, and I nodded.
I bent and checked the man over, using the end of a pen to move his clothing around. I couldn’t see any signs of scratches, but there were probably hairs from Sally all over him if he had, if they had…; I stopped there, refusing to go on. At least my anger would make the next bit easier.
‘Put this on’ I handed her a large bulky coat, long to the ground, and a cap, ‘and walk up there.’ I pointed to the end of the alley, the one they had come in; the one without cameras. ‘Keep your head down, don’t look up and don’t talk to anyone. I’ll catch you up.’ She nodded and started walking.
‘And Sally?’ She turned to me, and I stepped back slightly as I saw her eyes, arctic blue, shining from the shadow of her cap. I swallowed, wondering, not for the first time, what exactly she was. But she was still my sister.
‘This has got to stop. I can’t keep covering this up.’ Her eyes glittered, and for a few seconds we were silent, before she said, ‘I know. Thankyou Boo boo,’ her pet name for me when she was younger.
From the pockets of my own jacket, I pulled out the bottles of lighter fluid. Small enough for several to go unnoticed, but enough to do the job. I couldn’t have walked down here with a petrol can, that was the kind of thing that drew attention. I watered him thoroughly. Well mate, you picked on the wrong girl tonight. You get the poor mans Viking pyre. I lit the match and ran to join Sally, my shadow ahead of me as the flames behind me grew higher.
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