Nothing but Meat: A dark, heart-stopping British crime thriller (14 page)

When Nathan dropped the lighter he knew it could be his
downfall but he just couldn’t help himself; he lay on his back, propped up by
his elbows and looked at the fire in awe but it was quickly growing out of
control. He jumped up and began scrabbling around for dirt to throw onto the
flames but handfuls were useless, he needed a shovel. Then, within seconds the
drip tray buckled and split and the burning fuel spilled out like lava across
the hay-strewn floor.

Martin grabbed Nathan’s arm and spun him around. He shouted gleefully
into his face, ‘You’ve done it now you fucking dickhead!’ and then he turned,
grabbed his sister and ran for the hills leaving Nathan to deal with the fire.

When Nathan grabbed a nearby bucket of water and threw it
onto the flames he quickly learned that it was the worst possible thing he
could have done - the chemical reaction between the superheated petrol and the
water molecules caused the furious drip tray to explode in a violent roar that
immediately engulfed the side of the barn.

Panic-stricken, there was nothing left for him to do but run.

And run he did. Into the field, thrusting himself through the
wheat, feeling the ploughed, arid earth try to take his feet and twist his
ankles beneath him. His heart pounded and he gasped for breath with pot-weakened
lungs while acidic whiskey reflux burned hotly in his chest and throat.

Nathan reached the other side of the field and stopped to get
his breath; he dropped to the ground for cover and willed his heart rate to
return to normal. He looked towards the farm and to the thick column of black
smoke that poured into the sky.

He was alone, the others were long gone and he had to get
home too, he had to shower away the stench of smoke and fuel and distance
himself from the crime.

The following morning Steven West was about to leave for work
when his son ambled into the kitchen and started making breakfast seemingly
oblivious to his presence.

‘Good morning to you too,’ he said sarcastically.

Nathan turned around with kettle in hand, scruffy haired and
wearing a crumpled T-shirt printed with the slogan
Metal Up Your Ass
. ‘Morning,’ he said.

‘Bit early for you isn’t it?’

‘Not really, do you want another cup of tea?’

‘No thanks, I haven’t finished this one yet and I’ve got to go
to work in a minute.’

Nathan dropped some bread into the toaster and the kitchen
fell silent except for the radio, which, until then had been on quietly in the
background. It was half past the hour and when the news came on and the volume
suddenly seemed louder. Nathan stood with his back to his father, staring at
the glowing elements in the toaster as they began to turn the bread and listened
to the national news reports. An impassive voice reported news of a fire at a
farm in Cambridgeshire that had left four injured and one man critically ill in
hospital. An investigation into the cause of the fire was underway but the
possibility of arson had not been ruled out. Suddenly the toaster popped and
Nathan jumped. His toast was burnt and smoking around the edges.

His father was by the kitchen door. ‘I’m going now. I’ll see
you later on,’ he said. He looked at the smoking toast. ‘Open the window
Nathan, or you’ll set the bloody fire alarm off.’

‘Yeah, I will,’ he said. ‘See you tonight.’ He was in a daze.
He walked to the window and opened it, everything about his being felt
unnatural, his mind felt detached from his actions, robotic, as if under remote
control.

He was in deep shit and the situation was on the verge of
becoming as bad as it could get. He was already racked with guilt and fear,
fear not only for himself and his future but also for the man in hospital. If
the man died, Nathan wasn’t sure if he could live with himself, and if he got
caught, he would have to deal with the shame, he would have to look his father
in the eye and admit what he had done and his father would have to live with
the fact that his son was a criminal, maybe even a murderer and watch him go to
prison.

He spoke out-loud to the empty room while the radio played
Tracks of my Tears
. ‘I think I’ve ruined
my life,’ he said.

13

When Simone teamed up with her new unit she found that she had
been partnered with Kris Jung and she was okay with that. She had worked with
him before, in her early days shortly after she finished her training and
joined the Cambridgeshire Constabulary.

She remembered that she had found him difficult when they first
worked together but she thought it had more to do with her attitude than his.
Whereas she was eager and keen to get to know people Jung was aloof and quiet,
and she found it damn near impossible to make small talk with him. He was
content to sit in silence and gave the impression that he was all business. At
first she thought it was because he didn’t like her and, not understanding why,
found herself resenting it. In the end she finally gave up trying to make a
connection and sometimes found herself on the offensive, taking a hard edged
attitude, one rooted deeply in the vein of -
if you don’t like me, then you can fuck off
. But as she got to know
him a little more she began to understand that his attitude towards her was
nothing personal, he was like that with everyone; it was just the way he was
and people had to deal with it. Throughout her time at the station she hadn’t
heard anyone suggest Jung was anything other than a decent guy and a solid,
trustworthy police officer.

Simone knew he was one of the good guys and had the feeling
that once he really got to know someone he would be as forthcoming as the next
person, but considered that the reason he clammed up around people he viewed as
outsiders most likely stemmed from a lifetime of being judged on the way he
looked and was probably deep rooted as far back as childhood.

Jung was about as distinctive as a person could be; an
intimidating man-mountain, six-two and wide as a house, with huge muscular arms
and shoulders, a dark, pointed goatee beard and a massive bald head. He had
lightly tanned skin and slightly narrow eyes – both gifts, he once told
Simone during one of the rare occasions she got him to talk about himself, from
his Nepalese father who fought as a Ghurkha in the British Army.

His nickname around the station was The Rock, a name based on
his similarity to the American wrestler-cum-actor. As nicknames go, it
definitely wasn’t unjustified and even Jung couldn’t deny the similarity
between himself and The Rock and completely understood why people were more
likely to refer to him by his adopted sobriquet than they were by his real
name.

Once seen he was never forgotten, and Simone once heard
another officer, on seeing him for the first time and waiting until he was well
out of ear shot, sum him up in one simple sentence by saying, ‘God wasn’t
fucking around when he made that one.’

Jung wasn’t a loner, not by any means; he had friends, and
work colleagues that could trust him and rely on him whenever they needed to
but, as far as she knew, he never got too close and rarely confided in anyone.

He was a good cop but a private one and in many ways that
suited her now as her situation had changed since she last worked with him, she
now had things in her life she wanted to keep to herself and she knew she could
relax in his company, safe in the knowledge that he wouldn’t probe her or ask
trying questions about her private life as he was no more interested in gossip than
he was small talk.

Simone was glad not to have been assigned to the same unit as
Lucy as there was a high chance they would have been partnered up together.
Lucy was Simone’s closest colleague and she enjoyed spending time with her but
she was the complete opposite to Jung, Lucy was a gossip and liked to talk, she
asked questions and kept digging until she got the answers she wanted. The more
Simone considered it; it was definitely a blessing in disguise and she looked
forward to the peace and quiet that would come from working with Jung.

Simone and Jung contacted Gary Stevens’ fiancé, Caroline
Sheppard and arranged to meet her at the hospital where Stevens’ was being
treated for the injuries sustained in the attack.

Simone attempted small talk with Jung but even though she
knew there was little chance of stimulating a reaction she couldn’t help
herself, it felt strange to sit in a car with someone and not talk. Jung
responded with one-syllable answers and changed Simone’s irrelevance into
discussion about the case. Simone had no problem with it; in fact she felt
secure in the knowledge that although her life had been drenched in blood and
murder over the last few weeks she was sitting next to someone who had hardly
changed at all during all the years she had known him, and that gave her a
sense of wellbeing and safety that surprised her and cheered her up in equal
measure.

Gary Stevens’ fiancée was by his bedside when they arrived at
the hospital and they invited her to the canteen for a coffee.

‘What do you want from me?’ she snapped suddenly at Simone
while Jung busied himself with the coffee machine. ‘Dragging him to the station
and parading him on television like some psycho killer. Who do you lot think
you are? You make me fucking sick.’

There was a resemblance between Caroline Sheppard and
Victoria Redman that Simone found unnerving. Except it was strange, even though
she was only somewhere in her mid-twenties, Caroline Sheppard looked how
Victoria Redman would have looked if she had lived to see her late thirties and
had ruined herself with drug and alcohol addiction. Beyond that, they were so
similar they could have been the same person with only years and weight that
separated them.

Caroline Sheppard was thin, with a pallid, tight skinned
face, she wore cheap stonewashed jeans that covered a behind small enough to
make a seventeen year old girl jealous. Her hair was home coloured in an
unusual and probably unintended shade of red and her nose was pierced on both
sides, with a ring on one and a stud on the other. Simone didn’t judge on
appearance; in her younger years, she herself used to have a pierced nose and went
through phases of dyeing her hair. Simone judged her on her attitude and
aggressive behaviour and noticed that her hands shook and wondered if it was in
anger or some uncontrollable post-addiction affliction.

Simone asked calmly, ‘Can we sit down and have a chat?’

Caroline snorted, ‘I ain’t got time.’ She looked at her
watch. ‘Gotta leave for work soon and besides I didn’t see nothing. Just found
him laying there outside on the pavement.’

‘When you found him did you see anything at all? Was there
anyone else around?’

‘No. Listen I have to go home, I have to change into my
uniform.’

‘I’m sure work will understand if you’re late.’

‘I’ve gotta keep working haven’t I? Gotta pay the fuckin’
bills. How else are we going to get through this? He’s not going to be earning
any time soon is he? Not now, not after what’s happened to him.’

‘Listen to me.’ Jung intervened, ‘Calm down or we’ll take you
in and do this at the station.’ Simone knew instantly that Jung’s attitude was
the wrong approach for such a volatile interviewee and she was right Caroline
Sheppard erupted furiously at him.

‘Don’t you fuckin’ tell me to calm down!’ she snarled. ‘What?
You want to arrest me? How about you go and arrest the bloke that attacked my
Gary? Try doing some proper police work for a change. Fucking Rozzers.’

Simone caught his eye and flashed him her disapproval. ‘Miss
Sheppard,’ she said, ‘Caroline, I can assure you we’re doing all we can but we
need your help too, we need you to help us catch whoever did this to Gary. We
don’t want to hold you up any longer than necessary so maybe if you go home and
get ready for work now you might be able to spare five minutes of your time
before you leave. We’re perfectly willing to meet you at your home a little
later on.’

Caroline Sheppard looked at Jung with fire in her eyes but
Jung just stared down at her with a blank expression. So she looked back to Simone
and sighed. ‘Okay, fine,’ she said.

Simone nodded and they began walking towards the exit with
Jung heading up the rear.

‘Where do you work?’ Simone asked her as they crossed the car
park. Jung kept his distance and let Simone become her confidant.

‘Starbucks,’ she said. ‘I work part time.’

‘What time do you start?’

‘In an hour and a half, but I’ve got to get home, I’ve got to
get changed, I’ve got to-’

Simone interrupted her and tried to reassure her, ‘Here’s
what we’ll do, you go home, shower, change, do whatever it is you have to do
and we will pop round in an hour. I promise we’ll be in and out in a matter of minutes;
all that I ask is that you run through what happened that night while you get
ready for work. Don’t force your memory, just replay it your mind as you go
through your routine. You may remember something new; some small detail that
ends up making a big difference.’

‘Okay, okay, I will, but I can’t be late for work.’

‘You won’t be, but if you are, I will call your work and
explain to them that it was my fault, I delayed you.’

She looked panicked. ‘I’ve got to keep everything together.
He saved my life, got me back on my feet. He was a decent bloke Gary was. Still
is, still will be. I can’t afford to lose this job.’

‘You won’t.’

Simone confirmed Caroline’s address and phone number against
her notes, reassured her again and walked back to the car with Jung. ‘You came
on too heavy earlier,’ she said to him.

‘It worked though didn’t it?’

Simone suddenly realised that his earlier attitude was a
deliberate ploy to get Caroline Sheppard to trust Simone. She couldn’t believe
she fell for it too. She shook her head at her own naivety and glanced at him
with a slight hint of embarrassment. ‘Clever,’ she said.

‘Not really,’ he said. ‘She distrusts the police so I just
acted how she expected us to act and pushed her closer to you. But you gained
her trust and I’m sure she’s on her way home right now trying her best to
remember every little detail about the night Stevens was attacked. It wouldn’t
surprise me if she even makes notes about it for when we see her later on.’

After a moment of silence she said. ‘She’s so concerned about
losing her job, and it’s so unnecessary; no employer in their right mind would
sack her after what’s happened to her fiancé.’

‘She met him at The Shelter right?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Which means there’s a high probability that she used to be
homeless, and now her only connection with safety and security is critically
ill in hospital. Not to mention that she probably loves him,’ he said. ‘She’s
dealing with a lot of shit at the moment and can only imagine things getting
worse. Everything good about her life is unravelling and slipping away from
her. I’m sure her boss told her to take some time off but I’ll bet she insisted
on working.’

‘That’s actually quite insightful,’ Simone conceded.

‘Yeah well, maybe after today,’ he said as he walked around
the car, ‘you’ll realise that I’m not the blundering idiot you think I am.’

‘I don’t think you’re a blundering idiot,’ she protested.

It was his turn to shake his head. ‘You are so easy to fuck
with Connelly; I’m going love working with you.’

Simone wanted to go back to the station in the spare hour
before meeting Caroline Sheppard at her home. Jung dropped her off and went to
get some lunch and fuel for the car. She checked her desk for paperwork and
felt the need to see West but he wasn’t in the building.

She waited in the sun for Jung to return and considered that
revisiting Caroline Sheppard may not reward them with any more information but
Simone hoped that her suggestion that Caroline may be more likely to remember
something if she was able to be alone with her thoughts for a while, going
through her daily routine away from the pressures of police interrogation may
just tease one significant detail from her memory and point them in the right
direction.

At Caroline Sheppard’s home the sight of a car in the
driveway caused a slight feeling of relief to subconsciously nudge its way into
the back of Simone’s mind. She was glad Caroline had waited for them to arrive
but even so she wondered whether they should have called ahead just to make
sure she was still okay with their visit and to reassure her again that there
was no need to worry about her job.

Simone’s phone rang just as they were getting out of the car
and Jung hesitated on the pavement while she answered it.

She saw on the display that it was West. ‘Connelly.’ she
said.

Silence. Just a few seconds but enough to signal something
was wrong. ‘Hello?’ she said into the dark abyss of the receiver.

‘He’s dead,’ said West. ‘The old bugger’s died.’

Her body felt suddenly weak and loose at the news of Jack
West’s death and she turned her back to Jung and said, ‘Oh Nathan, I’m so
sorry, are you okay?’

‘I just thought you should know,’ he said and hung up. She
stared at her phone an image of West grieving alone floated terribly in her
mind.

‘You okay?’ said Jung yanking her back to reality.

‘Yeah. I’m fine,’ but her voice was phoney and betrayed her.