Fireproof (18 page)

"You got revenge."

"I got nothing but two rotting bodies to stick in wooden boxes!" Spittle flew from Mike's mouth.

Cathy stepped back. She could sense imminent destruction.

"If revenge won't satisfy you, why the fuck am I tied to a chair in your kitchen?"

"I'm a slow learner."

Mike leapt at Frankie. The chair flipped over and crashed to the ground. He straddled Frankie and wrapped his hands around his throat. Frankie's eyes bulged as Mike squeezed. Cathy froze.

She knew Frankie had to die, but she knew this wasn't how it should happen. This was Mike acting in anger. She had to do something.

In a matter of seconds the decision left her hands. Frankie stopped struggling and Mike grabbed his unconscious enemy's head by the crown and the chin. He pushed and pulled in two directions and Frankie's neck snapped like a dry tree branch. Cathy fought the urge to puke on the carpet.

After getting her gag reflex under control she risked talking.

"Are you okay?"

Mike looked to Cathy. "I forgot to ask him where I'd find Dave O'Brien."

Cathy read the desperation in his eyes. All his confidence drained by frustration and confusion. He'd found his way home, but he was completely lost.

"Mike." She stroked his cheek and he pushed into her hand, like a hurt puppy.

"I should have asked him where to find O'Brien."

"You'll find him."

She looked at Frankie's corpse. The impossible angle of his neck. The frozen, obscene expression. Another death aided by her presence. Another bad man dead.

"You're meant to find these bastards, Mike."

The kettle clicked off and Mike dropped teabags into two white mugs. He concentrated on wetting the tea. He needed a simple task. Too many thoughts crashed and smashed about in his head. Cathy sat at the kitchen table. Her expression said, "Talk to me." Mike avoided her eyes. He needed a moment to get straight before they discussed the body in his living room.

"I felt a little sick there now," Cathy said. "It shocked me. Feeling sick. Not watching you kill him." Her voice wavered a little.

"I should have controlled myself. Now I've got a body to get rid of and none of the satisfaction."

"I'll help."

"Thanks, Cathy. Normally I wouldn't ask you to, but I'm pressed for time now."

"I'll help too, Master Rocks." Cadbury had entered the kitchen without a sound. He was dressed in his full tuxedo. He seemed undisturbed by the murder scene he'd just walked past.

"Excellent, Cadbury. I appreciate that a lot. Between the three of us we'll have this sorted in a jiffy."

"Just one thing, Master Rocks."

"Yes?"

"There seems to be some sort of sprite-like thing on your shoulder."

"What? The sneaky wee bastard." Mike turned to his right shoulder. "You were very quiet for a change."

"Oh, I was just enjoying the show, Mike. Messy business."

"Hold on for a wee second. There's a mirror in the bathroom. I feel weird, talking to thin air."

On his way out of the kitchen Mike heard Cadbury attempt to describe the imp to Cathy. Mike made a mental note to bring that up with his new butler. How did he see him?

Mike closed the bathroom and went to the mirror above the sink. The imp had a new set of legs. They were shorter and skinnier than the last pair but Mike assumed that they would fill out in time.

"What's up?"

"Hi Mike, just wanted you to know that you're in another spot of bother."

"What? How come?"

"The taxi driver who brought Frankie to your house knew his face. When news gets out that Frankie's missing, that fellow has some valuable information he'll feel obliged to share. He knows what you and your girl look like and where you live. Very sloppy, Mike. The Master isn't happy. He's probably going to sic Cerberus on you."

"Why didn't you tell me this before I killed him?"

"Seemed funnier this way."

"So I take it you're still here for a reason. Otherwise Cerberus would be chomping on my arse."

"Well, I just have to offer you a suggestion that might get you out of this mess."

"What is it?"

"Go kill the taxi driver and the problem goes away. You know where he works. Won't be hard to track him down."

"But the man hasn't done anything to me. I can't just kill him because he might tout on me."

"Well, nobody is going to report Frankie missing for a few days. You can think about it. Either you kill the driver or you face Cerberus. No guarantees for a new body either, Mike. The Master is beginning to think you're more hassle than you're worth."

Mike grabbed the imp by its little throat. The imp squirmed in his grip and tried to bite him. Mike didn't waste any time. He flipped the toilet seat open, dumped the imp in the bowl, replaced the lid and pulled the chain. Then he sat on the toilet to think about what he'd just learned.

The driver didn't deserve to die. Mike had never killed anybody who didn't deserve it. Was he able to justify changing that? If he did he could get on with building his religion, track down Dave O'Brien and Shane Kelly and see how things would play out with Cathy. If he didn't he'd face Cerberus. He needed a plan. First things first. He had a body to get rid of, a mess to clean up and a mass to take. He went back to the kitchen.

"What's this business about a sprite?" Cathy asked.

"He's an imp. Kind of a mouthpiece from Hell. He tells me when I'm in trouble and stuff like that."

"You're in trouble?"

"Yeah, but we'll talk about it later. For now, let's deal with this piece of shit. Cadbury, nice job so far. You work like a demon, my friend."

Cadbury nodded and looked at his handy work. He'd already untied the body and wrapped it in cling film. An entire value pack roll had been wrapped around Frankie's corpse, the resulting sausage man grotesque.

"So how do we get a body out of here without drawing attention to it?" Cathy asked.

"I had to get rid of my first body not long after my first brief return. That time I chopped myself up and carried the pieces out every couple of hours. I spread them out all over the city. Buried some, threw some in the sea, that kind of thing. But I can't really be arsed chopping Frankie up. The wheelie bin was emptied this morning. I'll take it up here in the lift. Frankie's small enough to fit in it."

"And where are you going to wheel him to?"

"They've dug up a lot of the motorway close to the Broadway Roundabout. I can wheel the bin down that hill later on tonight and drop him into one of the trenches. Throw some of the loose stones over his body and Bob's your uncle. It'll get filled in during the week and if luck is with us, the body won't be discovered."

"The rats will try to dig him out. You'd need to cover him up very well to stop them getting at him and chewing the shit out of him."

"I'll cover the surrounding area in rat poison. They'll definitely fill it in without too much investigation if it looks like someone dumped a shitload of dead rats down there."

"Actually, that's a pretty good idea. It'll probably work. You got some rat poison?"

"Yeah, it's under the sink."

Mike and Cathy heard the trundle of plastic wheels and turned to see Cadbury wheel the black bin into the apartment. Mike hadn't even noticed him leaving.

"Cadbury, you are too good," Mike said.

"Thank you, Master Rocks."

"Cadbury, how did you see the imp?"

"With my eyes, Master Rocks." Cadbury said this slowly and clearly, as if talking to a child with learning difficulties.

"Well, yes, but I mean…" Mike shook his head and turned to Cathy. "Did you see it?"

"No, I thought you'd just gone even crazier than usual."

"And I can only see him when I look in a mirror. How can you have seen him?"

"Don't really know. He was just there, and I saw him, Master Rocks."

"You want to come to the mass tonight? You don't have to join or anything, but I'd like it if you could keep an eye out for the imp and any other strange creatures."

"Sure thing, Master Rocks. It might be an interesting experience."

"Okay, but let's treat it like a social occasion. Change out of the tux and stop calling me ‘Master Rocks' for the night."

"I'll be right back, Master Rocks."

Cadbury scampered off to his bedroom and Mike turned to Cathy.

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry you had to see that, but you know the story."

"It certainly was an experience. A learning experience."

"You plan on putting it into practice?"

"Let's just say I'm considering some options."

"Are you still thinking of becoming an assassin? It seems to be a lucrative profession, but there are certain dangers." Mike nodded towards the tightly wrapped corpse.

"We'll talk later. You've enough on your plate at the minute."

"Okay. Can you give me a hand to lift Frankie into the bin? He's dead light but an awkward thing to lift."

***

After they'd stuffed Frankie into the bin and Cadbury emerged from his bedroom in a pair of pyjamas, a dressing gown and Mike's oversized trainers, the three of them shared a private taxi to the foot of the Black Mountain. The driver commented that they were a little old to go drinking up there. Mike told him to shut up. He wasn't in the mood for taxi driver humour.

They got out at the mountain and Mike paid without tipping. The taxi driver shot off after calling Mike a wanker under his breath. They took a worn path up the mountain. The overcast sky dulled to cannon grey. The threat of rain held off but the wind whooshed through the air with cruel enthusiasm. The moon peeked through the thick clouds as the sun slowly fell out of sight. They zipped up their overcoats and dressing gown respectively and walked close to each other. There was very little chat as they ascended. Mike concentrated on the rattle of his teeth. It made him feel more miserable and he needed to be charismatic. He thought about Frankie in a bid to cheer himself up. It didn't work.

On the mountain, some of the teens had arrived and were building a bonfire. Jim pinballed among them. They approached the gathering and Mike chatted with Jim while Cathy and Cadbury helped build the fire.

"Nice suit, Mike," Jim said.

"Thanks. Are you ready for this?"

"Raring to go."

"Good, I see you have the envelope. Good for you, I forgot to remind you about that. Will purple-haired Denise be here with hers?"

"She's on her way. She's got a new boyfriend though. She said she couldn't risk waiting for you."

"That's okay. I'm seeing Cathy at the minute."

Jim looked over Mike's shoulder to see Cathy chatting with Cadbury. "Cathy Maguire? You lucky bastard. She's great."

Mike expected Jim to go on about Cathy's physical assets in a less than respectful manner but was pleasantly surprised when he opted for a bit of tact.

"Is there something different about you tonight, Jim?"

"I'm sober. Would that be it?"

"Good grief, I think that's it. Clear eyes, less drooling; it's a good look for you. What happened?"

"I knew you'd need me tonight. I don't want to let you down."

"You're taking this seriously? Good for you, Jim."

"Yeah. And I'd like to talk to you later about this whole business. I have a few concerns."

"Of course. We can go for a coffee somewhere and you can natter away. Fair enough?"

Jim nodded and Mike shook his hand. He allowed himself the luxury of hope. Maybe there was a little more to Jim than wasted hooliganism. He'd used the phrase "I have a few concerns" instead of "My fucking dome is wrecked"!

***

They managed to light a fire and it blazed by eight o'clock. The number of devotees had almost halved since Mike's sacrifice mass. Tony really had messed up a good thing. Mike wondered if Jim would be confident enough to spearhead a recruitment drive.

"Okay folks, let's get this started. I'm the new Mike, proof that there is a Hell and I'm Lucifer's, or Satan's, or the Dark Prince's religious representative on Earth. We'll start this out by proving that I am Mike. Denise can you join me and Jim at the front please. Your hair is green now? Nice. It brings out your complexion very well."

Denise manoeuvred her skinny frame through the crowd and stood beside Mike. She had her rumpled envelope in her hand.

"We had hoped to do this three times but one of my representatives has moved on to other things. Two checks will have to suffice. Jim's envelope contains the word ‘cocaine' and Denise's word is ‘Baphomet'. Please open the envelopes, my friends."

They opened the envelopes and sent the scraps of paper around the devotees. There were very few gasps of shock. Mike was almost irritated by how easy it was to convince people he had returned from the dead. Everyone accepted the fact without question and with very little amazement. Even scepticism would have been welcome. Didn't anybody think he was just conning them?