NEARLY DEAD Read online

  NEARLY DEAD

  CONRAD JONES

  Copyright © 2017 Author Name

  All rights reserved.

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  PROLOGUE

  The machine whirred into life. Metal hooks slotted onto the meat hopper and an automated hoist kicked into motion. A metal chain rattled. It lifted the rear of the hopper and tipped the bloody contents into the huge, stainless steel funnel that fed the meat grinder. Half a ton of pig bits slid noisily towards the spinning cogs. Ears, noses, tails, skin, offal, and bone were crushed and ground into mincemeat in minutes. The pale pink mince was forced through a sieve the size of a bin lid and collected in another meat hopper beneath it. The smell of dead flesh hung heavily in the air.

  ‘Half a ton of flesh and bone processed in under four minutes,’ Charlie said, without turning around. He rubbed his tattooed hand over his shaven head, feeling the stubble. A vein throbbed at his temple and the muscles in his jaw twitched. He looked angry but then, he always did. Three men were standing behind him. Two were holding the third between them; blood dripped from his nose onto his Armani shirt. He looked confused, frightened and exhausted. ‘It is an amazing machine. It allows us to use almost every bit of the animals that come in. Nothing is wasted. Impressive, isn’t it?’

  ‘Why am I here?’

  Charlie watched another hopper full of pigs being minced. He ignored the question.

  ‘Who are you and what do you want from me?’ the man asked, again. Charlie continued to stare at the machine and ignored him once more, fascinated by the grinder.

  ‘Please! What am I doing here?’ the frightened man asked. His voice was quiet and reedy. Charlie glanced at him and put his index finger to his lips to shush him. The man looked around the abattoir, the smell making him gag. He could hear pigs squealing in a different part of the building. They could sense death was close too. The atmosphere was oppressive, tainted with fear. The odour of blood and animal excrement made him want to vomit. The machine finished its business and fell silent. Charlie grinned and nodded. He looked over his shoulder at the man.

  ‘Okay. Let’s get straight to the point. You are a regular customer of the Wicks brothers,’ Charlie said, turning to look at the man. The man looked at his feet, not wanting to make eye contact too [EM1]long. Charlie waited for a reply but none came. ‘I’ll say it again, you are a regular customer of the Wicks brothers.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ The injured man said, shaking his head.

  ‘You don’t?’

  ‘No. I don’t.’

  ‘The Wicks brothers?’

  ‘I don’t know them.’

  ‘You don’t?’

  ‘No.’

  Charlie punched him on the nose. The nasal bones shattered with an audible crack. The blood flowed faster now.

  ‘Lie to me and I’ll hurt you. Okay?’ Charlie said. The man nodded. ‘I asked you a question.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Good, let’s be clear about things. You are a regular buyer from the Wicks brothers.’ The man shook his head to the negative. ‘That wasn’t a question, by the way. You are a customer of theirs. That is a fact.’

  ‘I don’t know them.’

  ‘You don’t know them at all?’ Charlie tilted his head as if he was talking to a child. The man continued to shake his head. ‘You are telling me that you have never heard of them?’

  ‘I’ve never heard of them.’

  ‘You’re lying to me.’ Charlie headbutted him. The thud was sickening. His knees went weak and he had to be held upright. A gurgling sound came from his throat as he swallowed his own blood. His eyes rolled back into his head.

  ‘I swear that I don’t know them.’ The man began to cry. His lips quivered and saliva mixed with blood dripped from his chin like a sticky red stalactite. His breath was coming in gasps. ‘Please, don’t hurt me anymore. I don’t know them.’

  ‘You do.’ Charlie grinned. ‘Do you know how I know?’

  ‘No,’ the man replied, his voice a whisper.

  ‘They told me that you are, so there is no point in lying to me.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The Wicks brothers themselves told me that you buy from them regularly.’

  ‘I don’t know …’ Charlie lifted his finger to silence him.

  ‘They told me that you buy a kilo of coke from them every Thursday. You have been buying a kilo of coke from them every Thursday for five years.’ Charlie paused and smiled although there was no warmth in it. ‘They like you. You’re a good customer. You’re never late and you never ask for credit. You pay them sixty-five grand a kilo, right?’

  ‘Look. I don’t know who you are,’ the man moaned, shaking his head. His eyes were full of fear and suspicion. ‘I can’t talk about stuff like that. They’re nutters. They would kill me.’

  ‘I understand. You are afraid of the Wicks brothers?’

  ‘Yes, I’m afraid of them and so should you be.’

  ‘I’m afraid of no one and you don’t need to be afraid of them either.’

  ‘Look,’ the man spoke, calmly. The fear in his eyes couldn’t be concealed. His voice was shaky, tinged with fear. ‘With all due respect, I don’t know who you are but you clearly have no concept of who the Wicks brothers are or what they’re capable of. They are dangerous.’ He nodded and looked at the men one at a time to reinforce his point. ‘If I talk to you, I’m as good as dead.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m not making myself clear, Del,’ Charlie said. ‘Do you mind if I call you, Del?’ Del shook his head, almost imperceptibly. ‘Let’s clear this up right here, right now. I want you to call Dave Wicks on your phone so that we can straighten this out.’ Del shook his head. His eyes widened in fear. ‘Go on, call him right now,’ Charlie said with a shrug.

  ‘What do you want me to say?’ Del looked confused.

  ‘Whatever you normally say. Do it. Take out your phone and call him before I lose my temper with you.’ Del took his mobile from his pocket and scrolled through the contacts. He found the number for Dave Wicks and called him. A mobile began to ring nearby. Charlie took the mobile from his pocket and grinned. There was blood on the screen. He held the screen towards Del so that he could see it. ‘Can you see that?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘This is Dave’s phone.’

  ‘I know it is,’ Del said, quietly.

  ‘He has you stored in his phone as ‘Big Nose’.’ The men holding Del laughed. ‘Why do you think that is, Stuart?’ Charlie asked one of his men, who was standing behind him.

  ‘I think it is because Del has a fucking big nose, boss.’

  The men laughed louder. ‘He does, doesn’t he?’ Charlie giggled for a few moments. He stopped suddenly and looked at Del with piercing blue eyes. His face was [EM2]like thunder. ‘You have got a fucking big nose, Del,’ Charlie said, seriously. ‘You know that, don’t you?’ Del nodded. ‘You do know. You must know. I bet you got bullied at school, didn’t you, Del?’ Del nodded again. ‘There was no need for him to set it as your caller ID was there?’

  ‘No. There wasn’t,’ Del agreed, finding his voice.

  ‘Dave Wicks was a cheeky cunt, eh, Del?’ Charlie smiled and walked towards a line of meat hoppers beneath the grinder. He looked into each one as he went by.

  ‘Why have you got Dave’s phone?’ Del asked, concern in his voice. He noticed a smirk on one of the men. A shiver ran down his spine. There was something very scary about his captors. They had menace coming from every pore. ‘Where is he?’

  ‘Come and see this.’ Charlie ignored the question. He gestured towards the hoppers. Del was helped along on unsteady legs by the men that held him. His eyes darted left and right nervously. ‘Notice how the colour of the meat varies slightl
y from skip to skip. No two are the same. This place is not a completely legitimate slaughterhouse. Some of the animals that come here never existed.’ Charlie tapped his nose with his forefinger. ‘Black market meat is big business. There are none of the restrictions involved.’ He tapped his nose with his forefinger [EM3]again. ‘Of course, some of it goes back into the industry. You could say it goes missing. I know a pig farmer who buys this stuff, boils it up in huge vats with cereal and oats and turns it into pig swill. They fucking love the stuff. Have you ever heard the noise pigs make before feeding time?’ Charlie looked Del in the eyes and waited for an answer. Del looked confused. ‘Are you listening to me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I asked you a question.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Don’t be sorry just answer the fucking question!’

  ‘No. I haven’t heard the noise pigs make before they eat,’ Del mumbled.

  ‘It is fucking deafening, Del. They go bananas. When they smell that swill being cooked, you can’t hear yourself think. They go into a frenzy, bumping and charging each other away from the troughs. The strongest eat first and the weak get the leftovers.’

  ‘This is all very interesting but could you please tell me what the fuck I am doing here?’ Del said, finding some courage. Charlie nodded to the men holding him. One of them grabbed his testicles hard in a vice like grip and twisted. Del’s mouth opened but no sound came out, the air was trapped in his lungs. It was five torturous seconds before the grip was released. ‘I’m sorry,’ Del gasped. ‘No more, please. I’m listening!’

  ‘Good. It is rude of me not to explain myself properly. Come here,’ Charlie gestured for the men to bring him to the line of meat hoppers. ‘You see how they’re all pretty much a uniform colour, except this one.’ Charlie pointed. Del looked inside. The meat in that hopper was much darker. ‘All the other hoppers are full of pig. This is a different colour. Do you know why?’

  ‘No,’ Del whispered.

  ‘Can you guess?’ Charlie grinned. Del shook his head. ‘This meat is much darker in colour because that is what remains of the Wicks brothers.’ Charlie grinned widely. ‘They don’t look scary now, do they, Del?’ Del looked like he had been punched in the guts. The colour drained from his face. His mouth opened to speak but he couldn’t find words. ‘You should have heard them squealing, Del. They made so much fucking noise, cried like babies. Some people can’t die with dignity, Del.’ Charlie let the gruesome news sink in. Del looked like he was going to be sick. He couldn’t take his eyes from the dark, human mince. ‘Anyway, as you can see, they won’t be trading anymore. I’m taking over their business and their customers. Everything will stay the same for you, almost.’ Del was stunned. ‘Did you hear what I said?’

  ‘Yes. You said, almost?’

  ‘You will buy a kilo a week from me just as you did with the Wicks except the price is now seventy-five grand.’

  ‘That’s ten grand a kilo more …’

  ‘You can add up,’ Charlie said, sarcastically. ‘This is not a negotiation. Let me explain.’ He leaned closer to Del’s face. His breath smelt worse than the abattoir. ‘You are Del Makin. You live in a three-bedroom detached in Woolton. You drive a new Lexus and your wife drives a Mercedes. She works in a dentist practice on Lark Lane. She’s very pretty by the way,’ Charlie patted him on the shoulder and winked. ‘You’re punching well above your weight there, Del.’ Del started to tremble. ‘Your daughters go to a private school on Allerton Lane. Jessica is nine and Emily is twelve. They leave home at eight thirty every morning and get the bus home at four o’clock every day.’ Del was about to speak but Charlie put his index finger to his lips. ‘You have a nice family and I’m sure you want to keep them safe, don’t you?’

  ‘Of course, I do!’

  ‘Good. Then listen to me carefully. If you try and buy from someone else, they’re dead. If you try and shaft me, they’re dead. If you moan about the price, I’ll go straight to your dealers and cut you out permanently. You and your family will be pig swill just like your friends here, understand?’ Del nodded that he understood. He was pale and shaken. The skin beneath his eyes was swelling and turning black. Blood still pumped from his shattered nose. ‘I asked you a question.’

  ‘Yes. I understand.’

  ‘Good. Then we’re done here,’ Charlie said, an evil grin on his face. ‘It’s been nice doing business with you, Del. Your first delivery will be Thursday. Make sure you’re there on time with the money, you hear me?’

  ‘I hear you.’ Del wiped blood and snot from his chin with the back of his hand.

  ‘Good man. I can see we’ll get on. Not a word to anyone mind, got it?’ Charlie gestured to the remains of the Wicks brothers. He pulled up a video on the mobile phone that he had taken from Dave Wicks and clicked play. The images of the Wicks brothers being tossed into the grinder played. As their limbs were sucked into the grinder’s spinning cogs, their screams were desperate and bloodcurdling. The sound of bones splintering filled the air. Their bodies were pouring through the sieve as mince long before they stopped screaming. Del couldn’t take his eyes from the screen. He turned white and then vomited onto his shoes.

  ****

  Across the city, Jack Howarth was sitting in his camper van, waiting for his newest project to arrive. He had spent three months talking to her in online chatrooms. At first, he had posed as a teenage boy to break the ice. He sat patiently waiting for her icon to come online night after night and then he would chat to her. Not too heavy at first, just talking about school and stuff. She started talking to him regularly and eventually gave him her real name. Then he really got his hooks into her. She wanted to add him on Facebook but he lied and said his parents had deactivated his profile as a punishment but he spent hours on her Facebook page researching his target. He knew her location, where she went to school, who her best-friends-forever were, what football team she supported, and what her favourite music was. Everything that he needed to know about her to get inside her head was there and he had used his new-found information to groom the unsuspecting child. As their friendship developed, he set up a PayPal account for her and began to send her money so that she could buy music, clothes, jewellery, and whatever she wanted. Not much at first, ten pounds here and there. He told her to be careful what she spent it on so that her family didn’t begin to ask where things were coming from. She told him that her parents were cannabis smoking alcoholics who wouldn’t know what her name was if they hadn’t tattooed it on their arms. This information gave him more ammunition, pandering to her problems and feeding her desires. He became her knight in shining armour. Once she was hooked, he admitted that he wasn’t thirteen and that he was in fact an adult. He also told her that he had fallen in love with her. That was always the vital link in the grooming chain. He always covered his tracks by using VPN software to hide his IP address just in case. At this point, she would either flip and tell her parents, who would in turn notify the police or she would continue the virtual relationship. Her relationship with her family was tenuous at best so she did the latter after a brief period of sulking, which ended when he sent her a hundred pounds to apologise. Pretty soon she was talking about running away, about hating school and her dysfunctional parents. A few months later, she had agreed to meet him. He had told her that he was an adult with adult needs and that if she loved him as she said that she did, and then she would want the same thing. She agreed to have sex.

  He checked his watch and looked around the park. There were a handful of dog walkers and joggers but the rain was deterring most people. It suited him. The camper was the ideal vehicle for illicit sex with a minor. A movement to his right caught his eye. He saw her beneath an oak tree, a hundred yards away, huddled beneath an umbrella. At least, he thought it was her but couldn’t be sure. She waved and summoned him over. He waved back and gestured to her to get into the camper. She shook her head and called him over. He didn’t want to get out of the van but she was obviously nervous. It was u
nderstandable. He checked his appearance in the mirror and pulled a beanie hat on to hide his receding hair. She would not be attracted to him in anyway. None of them ever were but the three crisp twenty-pound notes in his pocket would sway her. It was a fortune to a girl of that age. He opened the door and climbed down, closing it behind him. The wind tugged at his dark coat. He buried his hands deep into his pockets and jogged towards her. She looked nervous but managed a half smile. He kept his head down so that she couldn’t see his face clearly. A dog walker and a jogger crossed his path and blocked his view of her. He tried to look around them but they were in the way. They moved by and he caught a glimpse of her. She looked sexy in jeans and trainers. Her blond hair was shorter than in her pictures. It was a different shade too. As he neared, he noticed the lines at the corners of her eyes. Her teeth weren’t as pearly-white as they were in the pictures on her Facebook. He waked closer but alarm bells were ringing in his head. Despite wearing foundation to smooth her complexion, she looked older than thirteen. Much older.

  ‘Jack Howarth?’ a voice said from behind him. Jack turned to see two plain clothed detectives and two uniformed officers surrounding him. One of them reminded him of the television chef who swears a lot. The jogger and the dog walker had turned to block his escape. The German shepherd[EM4] reared up on two legs and bared its teeth, barking angrily. He realised that they were police officers too and that he had been tricked – hook, line, and sinker. ‘You’re under arrest, sunshine. I hope you brought a toothbrush in your camper van because you’ll be going away for a while,’ Alec Ramsay said, squeezing the cuffs on a little too tightly.

  CHAPTER 1

  TWO YEARS LATER

  Brian looked over his shoulder again. He stared into the gloom and tried to make sense of the shifting shadows. The sound of footsteps in the distance drifted to him but he couldn’t see who they belonged to. Every time he turned around, the footsteps slowed and the sound faded in the darkness. When he stopped, they stopped. The wind whistled through the trees that lined the road, their naked branches reached towards him like bony fingers, pointing, warning him of the evil that followed, as if they knew who was there. Rain dripped from their boughs, soaking his clothes and absorbing his body heat. He pushed his hands deep into his pockets and shivered against the cold, listening intently to the whispering breeze. The footsteps appeared to have ceased completely. He began to question if he had heard them at all. Fear and angst made his stomach knot. He felt sick with nerves and something else. Fear. It was pure unadulterated fear. His head was spinning. He wanted to turn back and go home. This was not his world. He didn’t belong in it. It scared him. He wanted to go home to his warm house and his mother.