The Elephant Tree (17 page)

‘What are you playing at man? Chill out we’ll be on our way soon,’ Scott said.

Twinkle’s face looked drawn and pale; his eyes rolled upwards, unable to keep their focus on Scott. He mumbled something again that Scott couldn’t understand.

‘I can’t hear you Twinkle, just sleep it off or something, you’ll be fine.’

‘The old boy isn’t looking too hot, is he?’ McBlane said, swilling the whiskey around in his glass.

Dominic and Shugg looked more alert now. They’d sat up on the sofa and were watching Twinkle intently, as he lay like a freshly caught fish on the deck of a boat. Even Twinkle’s lips looked pale now, almost completely drained of blood. His eyes closed and his body began to go limp.

‘Wake up you stupid fucker,’ Scott said, realising something could be seriously wrong, and slapped Twinkle across the face.

Twinkle’s eyelids flickered but wouldn’t remain open.

‘We have to get him to a hospital or something,’ Scott said, ‘he looks like he’s overdosing.’

‘No point in that, if he’s O’D-ing then he’ll be dead by the time you get there,’ McBlane said in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. ‘He either shakes it off or he’s fucked. Either way none of us wants to get tied in with heroin or anything like that or we’ll all be up on involuntary manslaughter charges.’ Murmurs and nods of agreement followed from Dominic and Shugg on the couch.

Scott knew there was nothing he could do. There was no way they’d allow an ambulance to be called and Scott had no transport even if he did manage to drag him outside. Twinkle’s pale face had begun to turn blue, his lips now a grey-white.

‘He’s almost gone,’ Dominic observed casually, from the couch. ‘We’ll need to find a way to get the body out, we can’t leave him here.’

‘Fuck’s sake he’s still breathing,’ Scott said, looking pleadingly around him, but the other eyes in the room were those of circling buzzards.

‘I said almost,’ Dominic said, and tutted.

‘He’s right,’ McBlane added. ‘You two see what’s in here to help. Scott you sit with him in case he does pull through.’

Shugg got up and went into the bedroom, Dominic to the kitchen where he began looking through the small cupboards. Scott leaned in and put his ear over Twinkle’s mouth. His breath was so shallow that at first Scott thought he was already dead.

‘I’ve found a suitcase,’ Shugg said, carrying a tattered brown case back into the room.

‘There’s not much of him but surely he’ll not fit in there,’ McBlane said.

Scott’s mind was racing, struggling to comprehend the events unfolding around him. They were talking about disposing of Twinkle like he was a rusty old bike that no-one rode anymore. Scott put his ear to Twinkle’s mouth again but could neither hear nor feel any breath. He pressed his fingers against Twinkle’s neck to feel for a pulse like he’d seen on TV.

‘I can’t feel a pulse. Fuck.’

‘OK, let’s see that case then Shugg.’ McBlane said and clapped his hands. Shugg tossed it onto the floor beside Twinkle.

McBlane moved over to the couch to supervise as Shugg began sizing Twinkle up to see if he’d fit in the case. Scott felt sick, it was like watching an amateur tailor fit him up for a suit to be buried in.

‘He won’t fit, bits will stick out,’ McBlane said. ‘Have you found anything that might help with that, Dom?’

‘Nothing sharp enough but I have found this,’ Dominic replied, pulling something from the bottom shelf of one of the lower cupboards.

There was a bang as it dragged against the cupboard door before Dominic straightened up holding a lump hammer.

‘Alright, see what you can do with that,’ McBlane instructed him, and rubbed his hands together.

‘Empty his pockets and take off any jewellery first. Scott, you sit back over here and let them get on with it.’

McBlane motioned to the armchair he’d first sat in. In a daze, Scott staggered across and collapsed into it. Twinkle was dead, at least Scott thought he was. Dominic had lifted his body and Shugg slid the open suitcase under him. Twinkle’s pale blue hands held up against his chest and head tucked down towards his neck as if in prayer. His arm jerked suddenly, probably a muscle reflex rather than through conscious effort. It looked like a floating branch that had been snagged by a fishing line.

‘You’re gonna have to fold him more,’ McBlane said. ‘Use the hammer.’

Scott could feel the contents of his stomach flip over and over on themselves. He turned to the side and retched, frothy yellow bile spilled out onto the newspaper covered floor, filling the room with the putrid stench of previously ingested alcohol.

‘Looks like someone can’t hold their drink,’ McBlane said, and Dominic and Shugg laughed.

Scott was still staring at the steam rising from his evacuated stomach contents as he heard the hammer fall. The dull crack of a bone splintering under its weight. He couldn’t look.

‘Fucking Christ,’ Scott said. ‘We were just talking to him a few minutes ago, we don’t even know for sure if he’s dead.’

Clunk – the hammer fell again.

‘He’s fitting better now,’ one of them said, Scott wasn’t sure who. He was no longer sure of anything.

Crack – Scott’s stomach contracted and another thin stream of bile spilled out from his mouth.

Clunk.

‘Right, try again now,’ McBlane said.

Scott turned to watch as Dominic and Shugg rearranged Twinkle’s broken limbs into the case. Arms and legs folded unnaturally at joints he shouldn’t have. Dominic closed the case and pressed his foot down on top as Shugg pulled the zipper around it. He picked it up carefully by the handle, making sure it would hold.

‘I think he might be exceeding the weight limit for carry on,’ Shugg said. ‘We’ll have to pay extra.’ They all laughed heartily – except Scott, who began to shake.

McBlane got up this time and went into the bedroom. He came back out with a small cloth bag.

‘Here’s your ten thousand,’ he said, and handed it to Scott, tight rolls of new bills inside. He then took out a handkerchief from his pocket and proceeded to wipe any fingerprints from the whiskey bottle.

‘Give us a while to get gone before you go back out. Put your feet up, finish the Scotch, whatever. OK?’

Scott angled his chin down slightly and then back up in a nod, afraid that any more movement than that would result in further vomiting. Dominic picked up the glasses and case that had held the syringes.

‘Just drink it from the bottle,’ he said.

Shugg carried the case containing Twinkle’s broken body outside.

‘Well he’s definitely getting cold feet now,’ he said; the three of them laughed again.

‘OK Scott, and remember,’ McBlane said.

‘Yeah, someone will be in touch,’ Scott finished for him.

He looked at his watch as they left, 00:16.

It was Christmas Day.

T
wo days later Angela called. Scott didn’t know how long he’d stayed in the flat that night. He’d drunk the rest of the whiskey before going back down by the stairwell. He hadn’t wanted anything to be the same when he left, no jagged reminders of what should have been with him but wasn’t on the way back out. Scott had wandered aimlessly before eventually coming across a taxi rank where he’d taken a cab home.

‘Stephanie’s gone.’

Scott’s brain swirled, uncomprehending.

‘What?’ he said.

‘Scott, Steph has gone. I don’t know where she is.’

‘You were both gone. I tried to call and I stopped by your place.’

‘No she left the hospital and stayed with me. She was really scared and wouldn’t let me tell anyone she was here, not even you. This morning she went to get clothes and stuff from her place and she hasn’t come back.’

‘Maybe she took off on her own.’

‘No, she was convinced they were still after her. She was at the window all the time watching in case anyone came here. She promised she’d be right back Scott.’

‘I don’t know what to say.’

‘OK I’m coming to your place, Scott. I can’t be here right now.’

The line went dead. Scott sat staring at the now silent phone.

He had done nothing on Christmas day, just wandered around outside in the frozen woods. Hard ground, chill winds and bare tree branches that looked like they’d been dipped in sugar. None of it had seemed real, like walking around in a desolate dream where nothing happened, but one he didn’t want to wake up from. To awaken would mean a return to the realities of his existence.

He didn’t know if anyone had tried to call, probably Jack would have the day before so they could exchange their obligatory
Merry Christmas
but Scott had left his phone switched off. Now when turning it back on Angela had called and it seemed he would have to deal with her turning up there. At least she was embroiled in some drama about her missing friend, not like she’d be asking a bunch of questions about him he didn’t want to answer.

Scott took a shower and then changed his clothes for the first time since Twinkle’s death. Before that there hadn’t seemed any point. He’d just slept in his clothes when he felt tired and walked around when he didn’t. Boris had known something was wrong, but had just trotted along beside him when he walked and curled up beside him when he slept. At least dogs don’t ask questions, and they don’t judge you, he thought. Scott did feel better after washing and changing, but then felt guilty because of it. He went to the kitchen and made stale cheese sandwiches for him and Boris after the fridge refused to offer up anything more edible.

When Angela turned up, Scott was greeted with the impression she was going to be there longer than just a few hours. She had a large hiker type backpack slung over one shoulder which appeared to be loaded up with her stuff. After he’d opened the front door Angela came in and dumped it in his bedroom before going to the kitchen to make herself a drink. She was sullen and preoccupied, telling him only that she’d contacted Stephanie’s mother to see if she’d gone there but was told they had neither seen nor spoken to her since she’d left the hospital.

Scott could tell Angela blamed herself and it was a feeling he could relate to. Stephanie would probably turn up though; Twinkle may turn up as well but it was more likely to be at the bottom of a lake, or when some waste ground was dug up to lay foundations for a new building.

His impression that Angela had come to stay proved to be correct. She didn’t ask and he didn’t say anything, she just stayed. Not the usual Angela that he was accustomed to; she was quiet and jumped at the slightest sound and even talked about going away for a while, getting out of the city, which wasn’t like her at all, but having her there still felt good, helped the hours pass by a little easier, and Boris was delighted as Angela always fussed over him. She went out and restocked his cupboards and cleaned the place probably better than it had been done in years.

When they were out walking, or even sitting in the evening watching TV, Angela would suddenly grab for her phone, thinking she’d heard it ring and that it would be news of Stephanie. The phantom rings were just in her head though, and New Year arrived without any word on either her or Twinkle.

Angela had bought ready-made Indian meals, red wine and candles from the supermarket for their New Year’s Eve in together. She hadn’t suggested going out anywhere and Scott wouldn’t have gone anyway. He didn’t want to take the chance of running into anyone from McBlane’s lot or whoever had beaten Neil up either. Neil would usually have been pestering Scott to go out continually over the holidays, but after the scare he’d had before Christmas he was keeping a low profile and staying with Elizabeth at her place.

Around two in the morning Angela was in the kitchen refilling their wine glasses when Scott’s phone rang and Jack flashed up on the caller ID screen.

‘Happy New Year,’ Scott said as he answered the call.

‘Fuck that. Twinkle’s really done it this time.’

Scott’s blood ran cold, what did Jack know about it? Scott tried not to panic and keep his voice steady when he answered.

‘What do you mean, done what?’

‘Someone’s been shot outside of the club and one of the doormen saw him do it.’

‘What, who was it?’ Scott said, struggling to decipher what was going on.

‘That guy with the earring you asked about the other night. He tried to grab him but Twinkle shook him off and ran. The police are gonna be after him for sure this time Scott. He even dropped his wallet as he got away from the doorman, for fuck’s sake.’

Now it made sense. Eventually someone would have realised he’d vanished and reported him missing, and with Twinkle getting close to Sharon again she might have done it even sooner. This way there’s an investigation to find him but now he had a reason to not want to be found.

‘Scott, you still there?’

‘Yeah, OK thanks for letting me know,’ he said, and hung up.

‘Was that Jack?’ Angela asked, evenly, carrying their refilled glasses back into the room.

‘Yeah, there’s been another shooting at Aura.’

‘Who was shot?’

‘I have no idea but the evidence seems to suggest it was Twinkle that did it.’

‘Do you think it was him?’

‘No, no I really don’t, but the police will be looking for him anyway. We should get out of here.’

‘You think they’ll come here tonight?’

‘I don’t know but they’re bound to connect me to him so I need to get the drugs out.’

Scott reached for his phone again and called Neil.

‘What?’ Neil said into the receiver after it rang half a dozen times, breathing heavily.

‘Whatever you’re doing, quit it. I need to come and see you now.’

‘What time is it?’

‘A little after two, are you still at Elizabeth’s?’

‘Yeah, why do you have to see me at two in the morning on New Year’s Eve? Just wish me happy New Year over the phone like anyone else.’

‘Fuck off. Where does she live?’

‘At the Walker building, are you coming here now?’

‘The Walker building, where Jack lives?’

‘Yeah, you need the number?’

‘No, I’ll text you when I’m near, you can come and meet me outside.’

Scott ended the call and immediately dialled Pressman cabs. The number rang seven times before Iris answered.