Nameless Kill (24 page)

“Who were you speaking to?”

The deep voice made Brian’s stomach roll, bringing home the reality that Stag was at the opposite side of the room. Colours filled Brian’s vision. He wanted to stand up and sprint towards Stag, taking him down.

He wanted to, but he couldn’t. He didn’t have the strength to do that anymore.

“Someone‌—‌someone here?” Mrs. Delforth asked. Another pause. Brian waited for her to give up his position. For all he knew, she could be pointing towards the curtain. Luke Delforth could be standing right above him, staring down.

“I heard talking. And I saw a man. Looked like that police officer from a few weeks ago. What did he want? He wasn’t bothering you was he Mum?”

Brian bit into his lip as a long-legged black spider crept across the back of his hand. Its feet tickling against his skin. But it was nothing compared to what Luke said. The officer from a few weeks ago. Luke Delforth had seen him. He’d been watching him, all along.

“Oh‌—‌oh him!” Mrs. Delforth said, giggling.

Fuck. She was going to spill. She was going to give up Brian’s position like this was all just a good-hearted game of hide-and-seek.

“He…‌he…‌Where did he go? Oh. He went to make me tea and then…” Another pause. “Well he must have left. Yes, he did leave.”

Brian couldn’t believe his luck. He wanted to jump to his feet and kiss Mrs. Delforth on her chapped old lips for that, whether she was genuinely covering for him or her senility was just getting the better of her. Thank God for Alzheimer’s.

“What did he want?” the deep voice of Luke Delforth asked. Brian heard his footsteps moving towards the centre of the lounge area, roughly where Brian had stood not long ago. It was just then that he got a whiff of something, too. A strong whiff of paint. The same whiff he’d smelled from the black paint in the kitchen. The paint from the gate out front. He tried to ignore the strong smell‌—‌tried to ignore the cobwebs tickling his cheeks, the spider creeping across his hand towards an empty plug socket, the thumping of his heart‌—‌and focused on keeping still. Completely still.

“Oh he was just looking out for your old mum,” Mrs. Delforth said. “Those bloody kids again. Found ‘um kicking the heads off my flowers. Hooligans, they are. Hooligans. About time you gave ‘um a good telling off for me.”

The footsteps got closer to Brian. Creaked against the ill-carpeted floorboards. Luke was coming his way. Brian was going to have to do something. He was going to have to act before Luke fled. This was his chance. His only chance.

Brian kept himself as calm as possible, which was pretty fucking hard work, and slowly reached down towards his pocket. He had to get his phone. Call the police. Now was the time. No more room for delays. If he delayed it any longer, he would get found out. He’d get found out and then fuck knows what this paint-stinking nutter would do to him. Nobody would suspect a thing of poor old Mrs. Delforth. Not a thing. Brian would just be another mystery in a long list of missing people. Post-heart attack depression, something like that.

As Luke Delforth’s footsteps continued to creak around the living room, Brian tried to reach for his phone. There was something hard and rough blocking access to his pocket. He didn’t want to knock it over and make a noise, so he opened his eyes slowly to see what it was, see if he could move it.

That’s when he realised exactly what it was, and exactly what he’d been sat next to all along.

It was the head of a deer. Its eye facing Brian had been plucked out, a deep red hole in its place. Its thin, pink tongue dangled out of its mouth.

No. It wasn’t a deer. It was a Stag.

There were two great, red holes where its antlers had been tugged away.

Brian shuffled to the side out of reaction. Fuck. He’d moved. Luke Delforth will have seen the movement. He’d have seen it and he was going to come over here and‌—‌

“Well just don’t be making fucking brews for everyone, Mum,” Luke said. “You’re too trusting, that’s your problem.”

Then, slowly but surely, the footsteps moved back towards the door.

Brian was completely still. He gripped his phone in his hand. He had a chance. Luke hadn’t seen him. He had to ring the police now. Finally, he had to‌—‌

He felt his phone slipping out of his sweaty hand.

Watching it tumble towards the floor didn’t happen in slow-motion, not like it did in the films. No, it fell out of his hand and hit an uncarpeted section of exposed wooden floorboard with a huge thud.

On its own, that thud might not have been a problem. It probably would’ve attracted some attention, but nothing more major than a bird hitting the window or something.

But it wasn’t on its own, because the contents of a white carrier bag that the phone had hit tilted to the side and thudded to the floor, too.

One thud.

Another thud.

Another, and another.

Brian watched, his cheeks getting warmer, his knees and legs and stomach going weak with every bang. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t move because moving would completely give away his position, but what a stupid thought because the thudding contents of the bag tumbling to the floor were revealing enough as it was.

He listened through the last thud. Listened to the intense silence from Mrs. Delforth’s lounge.

Then, he heard the echoing footsteps of Luke Delforth stepping across the lounge carpet and in his direction.

Chapter Forty One

Brian kept completely still underneath the dirty, cobweb-covered old curtain in Mrs. Delforth’s lounge. He listened as Luke Delforth’s footsteps got closer and closer to him. He could smell the strong stench of freshly coated paint as he approached, the intensity of it getting stronger and stronger, even tasting it in the air. He remained still. His phone was trapped beneath the contents of the carrier bag that had spilled out‌—‌a rusty, once-golden clock, a weathered pair of flowery slippers.

But the phone was pointless now anyway. He was too late. He’d come so close, but now he was too late.

As he waited for Luke Delforth’s footsteps to reach him, and for the curtain to be pulled aside, revealing Brian curled up like a little fucking wuss, he contemplated his next move. Usually, when he was younger and more sprightly, he’d have plummeted himself at Luke and knocked him to the ground. But he felt out of breath just crouching here. He knew he didn’t have the strength he once had, especially only a month after a heart attack. Long gone were the days of pinning people down and shouting their rights in their face. All he could do was sit here. Sit here and pray. Pray for a miracle.

He saw the curtains shake. Felt the rough material rub against his cheeks. He held his breath. Prepared to be revealed to the world. Prepared himself for whatever was next.

Then, the curtains fell back against his cheeks, and Luke Delforth’s footsteps grew further away.

“Really need to clean up this shit tip, Mum,” he said. “Like a frigging bomb site in here.”

“Language, Luke!” Mrs. Delforth shouted. “Won’t be getting any hats or clothing knitted off me if you speak to your old mum like that.”

Brian listened intently, his heart pounding, his mind not quite managing to get over the fact that Luke was walking
away
from him. His head spun. He had to stay cool. Stay calm. He could still do this. He could still get his phone, sneak out of here, then get Marlow or Brad or
someone
to help.

The sound of lips smacking together made Brian jump a little, his senses completely on edge.

“The hat looks lovely, Mum. Looking forward to giving it to my new girlfriend.”

Brian heard a squeal from Mrs. Delforth, then a shuffling in the seat. “A new girlfriend! Oh, my Luke. I hope this one treats you well. Not like the others. I hope she’s good enough for my Luke.”

Brian heard a deep chuckle from Luke. The door leading out to the hallway creaked open. “I think she is, Mum. I really think she’s something special. Anyway, I’m just nipping out for lunch. Want anything?”

“You’re a love,” Mrs. Delforth said. “But I’m okay. You get yourself a nice lunch, sweetheart.”

Another small laugh from Luke.

The footsteps disappeared back down the hallway. A door creaked open. Not the door beside the stairs, but a heavier sounding door, likely the front door.

Then, it slammed shut, and there was nothing but silence.

Brian stayed rigid there for a few seconds. He listened to the silence. Listened just to make sure Luke wasn’t still in the house. Fuck. He’d left. He’d been so close and now he’d left.

But he said he’d be back soon. This was Brian’s chance. A chance to get some police down here in time for Luke’s return. A chance to find out exactly what he’d been up to.

His new girlfriend.
Butterflies nibbled inside Brian’s chest.
Luke’s new girlfriend.
He didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit.

He shuffled around the damp, dusty floorboards for his phone and put it back into his pocket. Then, he rose slowly to his feet, the curtain still rubbing against his face.

He moved it away and was met immediately by the shocked gasp of Mrs. Delforth. She was still sat with one leg crossed over the other on that mouldy green sofa, a much more finished looking pink hat now stuck between the needles.

“Good heavens,” she said, bringing a hand to her chest. “I thought you’d left?”

Brian forced a smile, wiped the sweat from his face, then climbed back out from behind the curtain and into Mrs. Delforth’s lounge. Every step brought pain to his legs. Urgency. He had to see what was in the cellar. He had to see what was in the cellar and he had to get some police down here as soon as possible.

“No, I’m…‌I was cleaning up for you, remember?” Brian said. He squinted as he did.
No. Look affirmative. Don’t ask her a question. Make her seem like she’s being reminded of something.

Mrs. Delforth’s mouth parted slightly, and her eyes searched the room as if looking for the answer. “Cleaning up…‌cleaning…‌Yes. Yes! You were, that’s right. Oh, what a shame. If I’d known, I’d have introduced you to my Luke. Or have I already introduced‌—‌”

“Yes. Yeah, I…‌I know your Luke.” Brian walked slowly across the carpet towards the slightly ajar white door leading out to the hallway. “In fact I’m going to…‌to meet him. Very soon. I’m going to‌—‌to go downstairs and give him a surprise.”

Mrs. Delforth giggled like a schoolgirl, revealing her one mouldy tooth. “Oh, a surprise! He’ll love that, my Luke. Always loves a surprise. Oh that’ll be so funny. A surprise. I can’t wait!”

Brian smiled at Mrs. Delforth. He could feel a vein bulging on the left hand side of his neck, but he held his smile. Senile old darling was proving easier work than he’d ever imagined. No wonder she had kids raiding her garden. Probably invited them in for tea herself before forgetting who the hell they were.

Brian walked out of the muggy heat of Mrs. Delforth’s lounge. He stood in the hallway. He could smell the paint, still. The paint that Luke Delforth had reeked of when he’d entered the lounge. What was he doing with paint, anyway? What was he painting? His new girlfriend? Brian dreaded to think.

“Would you like that brew, Mrs. Delforth?” Brian asked, reaching for his phone again as he got closer and closer to the white wooden door at the side of the stairs.

“Oh, yes! Yes please. That would be lovely. No milk, three sugars.”

Brian placed a hand on the dark metal handle of the door. Fear filled his body from head to toe. He just had to go in there, have a quick look, then ring to get some police down here.

But first, he had to know. He had to see for definite. He had no doubts, but he needed proof.

“One tea coming right up,” Brian called.

Then, he lowered the handle, the rusty metal screeching against the latch, and opened Luke Delforth’s cellar door.

“Thank you, honey,” Katie Delforth called.

She placed the almost-completed hat on her lap and raised her thumb at the window opposite her. What a shame it had to come to this. He seemed like a lovely fellow, too. Always did, she guessed.

At the other side of the window, her son Luke nodded his beautiful black head and disappeared to the left of the garden. As he moved, a ray of sunlight crept through the dirty window and warmed up Katie’s bare legs.

What a pity such a horrible act had to happen on such a lovely day.

Chapter Forty Two

The first thing that hit Brian when he opened up the cellar door was the smell.

It was a pungent mixture of strong,
strong
paint as well as disinfectant. It made him want to hurl. He could actually taste it on his tongue. He coughed and covered his mouth as the smell filled his lungs.

Whatever was through this door, in the darkness, must’ve smelled bad if it needed this much chemical to cover up.

Brian took a few steps forward, still covering his mouth with his hand, and moved on to the hard, dusty grey concrete floor of the cellar room under the stairs. The second he stepped onto the dusty concrete, he noticed the echo of his footsteps. No wonder he’d heard Luke Delforth climbing the stairs so clearly.

He turned to his right and looked down into the darkness. There was a concrete staircase. He could just about make out the first four jagged steps, but after that, it was pitch black.

He had to descend. He had to see what was down there.

Then, he had to call the police and get them to visit while he waited from a safe distance.

It was cool in here, too. But it was a damp kind of cool. A contrast to the stuffy heat of Mrs. Delforth’s lounge, but hardly a pleasant contrast. Brian stumbled to the edge of the stairway. Peered down it, holding his phone up for a bit of extra light. It only revealed a couple more steps. Hadn’t somebody once told him how to use the torch on this phone? Bloody nuisance, it was. Or rather, he was a bloody nuisance with technology. Didn’t care to admit it aloud, though.

He took a step down and heard his footstep echo right through to the darkness below. The dim light from the screen of his phone barely glowed the path ahead of him. Beyond the echoing of his footsteps, he could hear his own shaky breathing as he got further down, further into the damp, coolness of the cellar.